In silence, we write. 
Without feedback, words fall flat. 
Poetry is extinct.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

It may look like I'm silent
But don't let it fool you
I'm holding back the will
To say that I love you

I just have to look
at you
to feel it.

To know it
I have to look
away.

Like the pages
of a book
mid-tornado,

Fragments of
information, the pieces
all out of place.

Still,

I believe you
beg to be
read.

raining from the sky
no two of us alike
crystals dancing in the night
perfect as we are
bright as the Sirius star
diamond dust
cloaking bridges
towers and mountains
eyelashes, noses, lips
building nests in hair in strips
powder babies amalgamating
over ponds skating
billowing and swirling
boys and girls hurling
compacted spheres flying
through the air
and lying feathery down
on the satin ground

I'm terrified to hear your words now that I've heard your thoughts.