We sit in silence
We get accustomed to it's presence
The comfort matches our tears
Depth surrounds
Only beaten by our fears
How does a drop of honey become so runny after all these years
It's sticky residue remains
Lining our creased palms
Lifeline to the stars
Heartline worn scars
Words lost to the distance
Communication in higher existence
Humble people scrubbing dishes
Waiting for the elixir to smooth their troubled hands