Silence.
That brief moment where you breathe between words, fight to get air into your lungs as fast as possible, can’t let them take the conversation from you, they are wind and you are the kite and then can send you to Timbuktu if they just catch that dangling string of your final word before your breath snatches it back.
That sleepy occasion floating between unconscious and awake too early for anyone else to be stirring from dreams where thoughts roll down well-worn paths then take a dive off a cliff fall all the way down images fly past there are no sounds here.
We don’t know each other if one of us does not speak up we never will.
I caught your eyes or you caught mine and I can’t help but smile as neither of us speaks there is a great white silence between us the clean coldness of bedsheets slick like whaleflesh and what we write on it could be anything but we just stretch it out between us, back away farther and farther and never let our eyes go.