You

Yes, I see you
peeking through your lashes
Yes, I hear you
your lips move and I can
feel you
quiet laughter like
fingers on my spine
I watch you and I think:
I know you
The curve of your cheek
color of your hair
so much like mine
You have a look in your eye
that is hard to define
It says:
Yes, I see you
and
Yes, I hear you
and
I wish I did not know you

The Thought

Can't shake it --
thoughts anchored in my brain
taken refuge under the skin
swimming inside every blood vessel
toxic
Want to hide it --
words are all betrayal
voice dissolving into whispers
easing into soft consonants until
silent

Talk

The silence seems fragile and I don't want it to break
Words that used to tumble from my mouth
like so much steam and heat and necessary substance
are now things I have to search for
Talking seems weightless and empty and without meaning
something I do because the quiet is oppressive
to the world out there
All it does is fill the space around us at the table
or between us in the streets
Most of it is just small talk
and it's getting harder for me to find the right things to say
Half the words that filter in tend to ricochet
dull rocks that make my head ache
day after day after day after day
It's become a tiresome thing at best:
listening and being listened to
Silence would be bliss
and to be silent a thousand times better
I think it is too easily shattered
for me to really hope for