words are liars
by their very nature.
tin cans clanging
on a honeymoon string
trying to sing.
it’s a lot of noise
to untie later.
You and me
more often
check in,
leave the rattle behind,
unpack our breath,
kick conversation off
like a pair of tight
shoes.
Sing our particular
truth
with fingers and hips.
the melody being
what hovers
in-between
your eyes and mine.
I like how you look
at me
when
so often
you don’t have
the words.
