When it comes to a conversation with you
I wish the days would never end
The necessity of sleep disregarded
When we talk—

Our words could waltz in the ballrooms
of our minds
serving as our music.



I’ll take a step and you’ll take yours
unless we are both terrible dancers
terrible talkers

and when feeling must remain silent
there is no true melody
to keep me from shouting

“I wish you’d talk to me some day!”

but there is always silence:

we look down as we pass each other by.