My language draws your vision into mine.
I watch you listen quiet as a net
until your silence pulls me, intertwines
and tangles meaning, disconcerting, whets
my closest hope that single soul was two
and sown apart, unknowing to today:
a unity again. Long felt but new,
unworded lifelong, only now betrayed
by speaking spaces. Speak aloud I will:
The will to tell my nearest feelings out
determines, falters, fails, and closes still.
That was so near expression, nearer doubt.
An instant alters silent meaning down
to unvoiced love and solitary sound.