If he listened to my body's language
the way that my hands talk,
the static noise that is my hair
the things my knees say in remorse
all the laments made by my stretch marks as
he swam along the surface
with his fingers on my skin,
to hide between the burlap,

If he could just hear the thoughts buried,
beneath his muted kisses
all the things i wish I could say,
without dashing his deepest wishes