its what you don't say, exactly
every time we get a chance to speak
a word, a phrase or some silly joke
leaves this heart of mine
with a reason to wonder
words waiting still to breathe again
contemplating the statosphere

anticipating reception
or rather, simply perception?
I find myself so curious
hints of those
mysterious,
every syllable
every sound yet felt

I wonder about the probabilities
weigh the risks
in my mind's relentless quest
to find some way
to open more
that door,
back into the world of you and me
and every thing we stood there for ...

they say butterflies don't lie
they know their time is short
if we had but one more day
and no more
with everything we know and feel
would you be still be mine?

12/23/2006

Posted on 12/24/2006
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