Eyes speaking for my heart,
I stumble forward.
Devouring each word,
The pressure of your lips pushed together,
Poised to speak.

My tongue, tapping, waits
To know the syllables you hold inside.
I feel them falling.
I feel myself,
Steady in your hand.

What I cannot say is what you know,
If this fire I have given myself to
Is visible from the distance
You have kept so calmly,
If the emptiness between us
Is fear of believing,
Or silence itself at work.

It's drifted down from inside the moment,
And there are some dreams
You cannot lose without losing yourself,
Some lies you cannot give up
Without giving up your dreams.
(Desire and regret go hand in hand.)

Fooling myself and knowing you,
What little you've given,
Your silly stories, your present smile,
I wonder what there is you haven't told:
How many girls you've kissed,
How many lives you lived,
Who you are, and
If I will be a part of you.

Aside, these are things I can imagine on my own,
Like the sune, the crossed shadows
On my windowsill.
The drops left over from the midnight storm.
I've passed belief, stepped into the hope:
Where we exist as lovers instead of loners,
In song instead of quiet.