Thoughts of the Distant Daydreamer

It’s not the words we say, but the ones we don’t.

It’s the silences that hang when words come close.

When our hands hold more understanding then truths we wrote,

And our fingers trail each other’s edges like walks along the coast.

 

Seashells sing the song the tides wrote for them.

Those breezy blues sending waves to the surface, purples and hues thereof.

Water kissing the sand like soldiers returning home.

And the sun nothing more than a witness to their public affection.

 

Time slows around a black hole.

Yet around you my heart stops all together.

Pulling each thought from my mind like sun pulls me from my dreams.

Clinging to me like the distractions I cacoon myself in.

 

Rain falls and dust settles,

And the streets are lit with street lights wishing for a night off.

Stars soar across the sky with tails like ribbons on a kite,

And the breeze dances with the song the ocean wrote.