The period never really ends the conversation, because when our lips rested comfortably in silence, our minds conversed on the ideas and feelings that will never come to light. Never come to our light, these are then shared on the platform of another, another who should not have the privilege but the opportunity to know of such requited unions of love. We share so much but the necessity, we share so much except for the bare minimum. I am entrenched in the soft texture of your sorrow and the brash sounds of your confusion. I am the only person who believes, I have held the key to the renovated home that now stands so firmly in the field of emptiness. I truly do not know the other side.
Courtesy of The Libertine