Week 57

The cafe is busy at lunch,
People just sitting around, eating,
Jaws tightening and unclenching
Mindlessly.
I sit here
and do the same,
But my mind wanders to you
And the way your jaw
Tightens and unclenches
When you want to tell me something
That your head won't let you say to me.

But I see the words flow up
from your heart to your fingertips
And slowly you write them without meaning to
on my skin.
The way you trace lines
On my face,
My hips,
My wrists.
Your mouth doesn't move
But the words flow up still,
Flow into your eyes,
And causes them to burst into shapes and  colours,
shine brilliantly
So that when they meet mine,
They enlighten me to see you in my past and my future.

But this is too much,
Too much for someone with a beaten soul
To bear
So those beautiful words move up
And get stuck in your hardened jaw,
Your closed fists
Your distant eyes.

So what can I do
But reach over from my place in this universe to yours,
And whisper those words for you,
To you.
Slowly, I lean in close,
And let those words roll off my tongue,
Place my soul in your hands,
Rest my head on your heart,
And wait.