What We Mean When We Don’t Say What We Mean

When you whisper in my ear
     it’s like a million miniature feathers
     tickling my skin, and I pause
     to wonder if, somewhere
     deep down in your lungs,
     a million tiny birds live
     fluttering, song-filled lives.
And, if so, are their songs also your songs?
Are their laments and losses and loves also yours to croon about?
And do your throat and mouth ever grow dry?

What We Mean When We Don’t Say What We Mean

10 thoughts on “What We Mean When We Don’t Say What We Mean

Sock it to me

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