I find your strength within your weakness,
and your spontaneousness stutters in the melody of your lisps.

I find the power in your unspoken favorite flavor,
and the taste leaks from a puncture of your unconscious gesture.

I find your pain in the discourse of your taciturn glance,
and your fear preserved with the muscles of your midnight beard.

I find a lot in the nothingness in your insolvent pocket,
I find joy, glamour and an **ignited cello.