i am still learning the language of the universe,
yet i am fluent in your presence.
slivers of silver run across my spine to yours –
and oddly, we connect.

our pinky fingers intertwine as whispers float above our heads,
telling of lost love and one that is to come.
and as we suspend in the middle of nowhere,
the words come to me in waves,
you catch them with your hands
and let them rest under your curled fingers.

to others we speak gibberish; not to us.
the language of the universe:
celestial and unnerving
a language we speak as one.