Back on this topic I’m sorry but just how does a writer fall in love with someone that doesn’t share that depth with words and outward emotions spilling and toppling and tripping all over the place. Tripping over ourselves tripping over the love constantly needing to form and wrap our lips around some sort of idea that just might clarify how much it is we feel. As if it were even possible. How do you communicate with them? How do you communicate that love if they cannot talk back? Better yet how can you accept that the insanity to what you feel will never so much as stumble off the tip of your tongue, but you will try and you will keep trying and you will have to swallow it back every single time. It will never reach them. Even tongue to tongue, even lip locked even inseparable, what if it doesn’t reach them? How do I reach you if I cannot communicate in the ways that make sense to me, in the only ways I can think to. When I stir my coffee, when the spoon clinks and clinks and clinks again against the bottom of that mug, can’t you hear it saying I love you? When I walk through the door and my nose is numb to the touch and my lungs are in a flume of blizzard and a held breath and I release it right as our eyes meet in the kitchen. Don’t you feel that? Do you feel that without me saying a word? Almost as if it were a breeze through the room. I study you. I watch you. I am learning you if you could only understand that the taste of someone, their taste can go so much further than the taste itself. How do you render that taste how do you really savor that taste other than immersing yourself in one another constantly the constant passion you form it to ink you plaster it you print it you script it you jostle it into tattered pages and the taste is no longer just a taste. Do you understand that? Does it make sense to you? When I tap my fingers against the table I’m telling you I’ve missed you, I’m happy you’re home and my knuckles will ache like a bad case of cracks that pass around classrooms and subways for your lips. Or the way I tuck my hair, do you notice? Don’t you know it all means something? Don’t you know that I am telling you what I feel with every thing that I do? Don’t you know that telling is so much more than saying? Our bodies can only go so far. I want my tongue to be all that wets your lips after a days work and I want you to know, I want you to know the sound of bare feet skipping across the floorboards when it’s pitch black, when you’ve got no sight at all, when I wont say a word, when I will just stand, that I’ve loved you. Tell me you can hear it. Tell me you understand. Please tell me you understand.
(via zoe-grahams)
