They say pictures paint a thousand words,
But I'd rather hear the ones drawn by your lips,
The ones lost in the movement of your hips.
As if the air your lungs exhale,
Was the only air mine knew how to inhale.
As if the melody of the sound waves your vocal chords send my way,
Were in perfect harmony with the sound of my heart beating...
... Broken and out of sync, like it's on the brink of collapse

And I know that pictures paint a thousand words but actions paint a million more
But the only action I seem to recall is my hand holding yours,
Pressed up against the wall, your lips pressed against mine,
Not drawing anything more but emotions, raw pure affection, pure movie magic, pictures in motion.

Pictures do paint a thousand words but you left me blind,
And now all I can do is hear the words one by one, haunting my every thought,
Leaving me a faint image, the memory of a picture painting no words at all.