I tiptoe on definitions,
trusting that
eloquence and versed language
might be enough.

Underneath the sky, love is a language.

No one is fluent,
but words become my way.

It takes time,
and I might stumble.
But love,
listen.

Between lines, I am true.

I am full of intricate detail
that makes no sense
unless you
listen.

-E.K.