The silence of being you as if a song
like fingers of rivers lacing together
only the words I know to
and the way you smile
your lips soft to bloom
unspoken beyond the moon
a phantom touch of memories
lingering the scent of your skins
world of silence, but the blood sings
This feels like a whispered reverie–intimate and weightless. I love how the imagery flows like “fingers of rivers,” and how “your lips soft to bloom” turns silence into something almost sacred.
Thank you much.