Speak On

There's nothing in your words

To make me stay.

A graceless dance 

In how they come;

Naked, trembling,

From your lips.

Nothing pleasant 

In their rise and fall,

Nor in your misplaced pause

To gather breath

There's nothing in your thoughts

To paint anew

The earth to me,

Nor me to them,

Nor them to any,

That have not 

Been said and forgot,

Timelessly as night

Nothing in the way you move

Suggests

You are not to be

Splayed; foal-legged

In the tide

As infinitely malleable as I

And yet,

I've become

A little caught up,

So speak on 

Reviews

[asdarkeyesclose]

'A graceless dance
In how they come;'

the conversation that unfolds that drop in an ocean of words that we just want to listen to. fantastic.

[Ed Hart]

it takes a seasoned heart to display the cool precise pace of words like these...as always, so well done