A penny for my thoughts?
Give me a pen and a paper
And I’ll take you on a journey
Past the contrasting black ink
On the white-as-snow page
And show you the mechanics
Of my brain. Here my thoughts
Are carried away on
Post-it notes of their own
Until they’re pieced together
Like separate pieces of the same puzzle,
A bigger idea made from
Several smaller ones
Placed out for very few to read.
Give me a penny, if you wish,
But I guarantee
It’s more than what you bargained for.
Words taking flight
On a trip, traveling up my throat
Flitting across my tongue
And playing at the tip
Where they brush past my lips
But what happens
When there are no words?
A different form of communication
Evolves without trying.
Your lips on mine-
The pressure, lingering, intensity
All signs that show me
What you want, need, desire.
secret code, no-
A secret passed
From one pair of lips to another
A conversation that lasts a lifetime.
This language is our own.
There was a man that spoke in sonnets
A language native to my yearning ear
We shared our secrets in permanent ink
And laughed at trivial reality.
There was a man that spoke in fragments
Broken language here and there
He talked and talked as I listened
And silently loved him in my dreams.