"
unsaid “
c. 2002, Miriam M. Wynn
words like pebbles
fall into the water
sighing meaning like shadows crisscrossing,
drunk and heavy across the stillness;
what would have been a glance becomes
a smile, weighted whisper;
what would have been acknowledgment becomes
a hint of making love;
intensity in
your eyes will send mine
chasing across the hillside;
you blind me with your laugh, your grin,
the wicked way you have about you;
the lines you
draw in social circles
become curves caressed by lips and tongue;
the eager laugh a vibrant growl,
the wide, unrepentant grin a cocky challenge;
within this arena
of pending circumstance
we ease around each other always
tensed, quiet, careful;
spring-loaded I hold myself in check thinking
that perhaps I have misread;
we hold our breath
around each other
and when we speak we create our own soft language;
velvet murmurs, gentle chiding, ever prickly,
feeling and prodding, testing;
and beneath it all, an anticipation deep and dark
as all the fiercest things we have yet to tell;
unspoken truths
fill up the air around us
and we swim through them, ever wary;
and my lips ache to replace with kisses
all the things
still left unsaid.
