They take my silence as
subtle insecurities.

I laugh at such thoughts;
my tongue is too busy
playing my teeth like piano keys
to use such frivolities as words that are
stuck in the air, can't get anywhere,
while musical lyrics bend inside my mouth,
an orchestra being swallowed into
smaller pieces of inspiration to be
scattered across the pages
through my bloodstream.

While you speak in casual dialogues
shaped by cheap letters tied together in
strings of disengaged interest,
I swim in pools of purple colored dreams
made of hundred year old dawns and
barefoot summers stained
by smudges of reality that taint the splendors
of ballroom gowns sewn together by gnarled
wooden fingers twisted around the
needles of imagination.

Your thoughtless verbiage spins nooses
slung about the dainty wrists of winter children
as they swing through bare branches,
choking them ever so slowly, so kindly,
until they fall ashen into the concealing white,
snowflake tears kissing their knees and eyelashes
in shameless passion.

This childish set of events meanders into my head
while I watch your words drop dead
onto pointed spears of grass, mercilessly stabbed to death;
a massacre of words and thoughts place firmly
underneath your tongue to be held there,
but imaginary fingers have plunged deep into
a lipless abyss to unleash the mediocre sentences.

Allow me this small form of gratifying peace,
to stare through your image until you've become
a simple silhouette,
until my mind has dreamed away your speech
into sunflowers growing from your mouth,
into the sky, reaching for the nearest star
and what lies behind it;
I'm touching, feeling all the things
that can't be seen…
if I choose to listen.

I'll chew my cheek and listen quietly,
but worlds wait between your words.