I implore you.

I will pick you apart into pieces so small they run past my fingers like spider silk but I will not make you speak.

I implore you.

I have stories and tales and thoughts and wonder balanced precariously on the tip of my tongue and if you were to merely speak...

I implore you.

I reach out with hands slathered in the most adhesive of glues and pray you won't notice how I bind myself to you but I hesitate because you will not speak.

I implore you.

I implore you.

Speak.