The intimacy of not being intimate.
Stimulation of showing a paradox unveiled in whispered secrets.
Fearlessness flowing in the tides of regret,
overthought and underfelt,
as love hides between lines unsaid.
I wonder.
What flaw stains my feelings and what truth justifies their silence?
Whenever I cast a line it’s always wondrous what I reel in.
I just ponder about us, ‘bout what I’m seeing, what you’re seemingly interested in.
The things I understand I resonate with, the things I don’t are interesting.
When your voice lingers around I can’t stop listening.
Your voice a song without cadence,
a melody I can’t stop listening to,
looped endlessly in the chambers of my mind.
There is no choice involved at all.
Being in love is a continuous fall.
The different ways we unveil our souls to one another says it all.
Both looking back and looking away and when our eyes meet, our minds wander astray.
I wonder if you feel the same.
I wonder, do you wonder too?
Do you feel the tremors in soft, innocent touches,
the current they create beneath the surface?
Do you even notice them or is this one sided?
I hope not just seeing things, cause it got me blinded.