We talk about such strange things.
Sloths as kings of beasts.
Everyday nightmares from which we alone awake.
Mistakes that haunt or pursue us.
Such strange things for those in love.
Candy clouds and storms of thunder
Together making sense.
So different but you feel a part of me
Without you I cannot be whole.
I write you poems and letters every day.
Telling you my every thought, every fear, every hope for us.
Love is harder for you.
You send me a song whose title or lyric speak for you
Relying on me to understand what you mean but cannot say.
I treasure each song. I've a playlist of your love.
You write pages on pain and loneliness and alienation
On love you are a minimalist, trusting saying less will say more
Trusting me to understand what you feel but cannot say.
It works. My overwrought prose and verse, your silences.
Because we're are in love.
I am comfortable in your silences.