Especially in between the lines, where
your words rest and your thoughts
breathe their truths.
tells a story of its own, pondering
vulnerability’s willingness to be known.
My eyes listen intently,
gaining more from nuances than
ears can ever hear; learning
more with every wince and beam
reflected in your mask’s betrayal.
What you do not say overwhelms,
and I am drawn deeper
into your silhouette, deeper
into the mystery beneath your
prudently prepared outline.
I am lost in your hidden spaces,
reaching for those veiled traces of
“how come” weaved into your DNA.
Drifting through your layered shadows,
dare I invade with a touch; adding
the tremble of your pulse to the
culmination of terms displayed?
Dismay is not a factor, for
hearing you is knowing you
without pretense, before judgment,
taking in the complex spectrum
of your reality’s perspective.