on the pros and cons of speaking.
A Way With Words
i've tasted your heart. i've danced my tongue around the inside of your being and written history for the both of us. that is my gift. i've lapped the bitterness from your core and gotten to the beating, pulsating layer of something deeper.
we come alive with poetry. the romanticism of expressing things in ways that could never truly be. everything what we want to hear, nothing we don't know better than to believe.
the purists are the ones to truly hold dear. the few who expect each breath to live up to it's fullest potential. words released from behind their lips like attire hand-stitched and perfect for this occasion. gliding through the air, drifting through time and space to be absorbed by ears and processed with pinpoint accuracy. they are the ones who communicate rather than speak. who know the value of wasted breath. who are most devilishly aware of the powers that they can abuse.
every syllable a seduction that i never knew existed.
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Away With Words
it's the moments of silence that hold us captive. entranced by locked eyes, welling up with the emotion and passion that is spilling out from behind them. no articulation of the tongue could ever surpass. could ever even come close.
it's the moments that are more than just comfortable silence. more than just a pause between sentences. time so pregnant with more meaning than linguists and philosophers could evoke from any passage. the arithmetic that crosses international waters without explanation. lingering in the streets, the bedrooms, the skies.
it's the moments of blacked out senses, when all we have is our touch, our heat, our existence at its core. reaching out to show each other how deep the rivers of love and hate really flow. surpassing creation. high above anything that man could ever assign phrase to express. divine.
i've tasted your heart. i've danced my tongue around the inside of your being and written history for the both of us. that is my gift. i've lapped the bitterness from your core and gotten to the beating, pulsating layer of something deeper.
we come alive with poetry. the romanticism of expressing things in ways that could never truly be. everything what we want to hear, nothing we don't know better than to believe.
the purists are the ones to truly hold dear. the few who expect each breath to live up to it's fullest potential. words released from behind their lips like attire hand-stitched and perfect for this occasion. gliding through the air, drifting through time and space to be absorbed by ears and processed with pinpoint accuracy. they are the ones who communicate rather than speak. who know the value of wasted breath. who are most devilishly aware of the powers that they can abuse.
every syllable a seduction that i never knew existed.
-----
Away With Words
it's the moments of silence that hold us captive. entranced by locked eyes, welling up with the emotion and passion that is spilling out from behind them. no articulation of the tongue could ever surpass. could ever even come close.
it's the moments that are more than just comfortable silence. more than just a pause between sentences. time so pregnant with more meaning than linguists and philosophers could evoke from any passage. the arithmetic that crosses international waters without explanation. lingering in the streets, the bedrooms, the skies.
it's the moments of blacked out senses, when all we have is our touch, our heat, our existence at its core. reaching out to show each other how deep the rivers of love and hate really flow. surpassing creation. high above anything that man could ever assign phrase to express. divine.