You know there's more.  
There's always more.
He doesn't say them.
I don't say them.
Somehow we still manage to say all and nothing.
Each relying on our intuition to translate.
Both depending on the conveyance to be clear.

I hope it is.
Does he hope it is?
****...confusion

I hear it though.
The questions in the questions.
I think he hears the answers in the answers.
Always this language of in between.

In between....
Star crossed.
That's what it is.
Some ethereal cosmic fate.

Reason, reason...
Fingers tapping as I think on it....
Because life is not meant to be *******
Because you are meant to feel and be inspired
Because you are...
Because.....
Because........

Because sometimes it's just nice to have someone out there in all of existence that pays attention to the way you like your coffee for no good reason other than it's the way YOU like your coffee.

Because if I asked him the time and date of whatever
Or how many blueberries were in the box sitting on the table that one time we ate breakfast together...how many years ago now??
And he remembers.
And memory is all we're left with
When everything else is gone

You can be remembered for so many big things
But he remembers how I take my coffee
And that little tiny thing
Means there are so many more not tiny things
That aren't being said, they're just known
In the in between