it's quiet here,
except for the wind whistling through the entryway
and the hushed sound of voices behind closed doors.
solitude.
listening as I concentrate on what's in front of me.
thinking.
trying to figure out what comes next.
then a disturbance.
a door opens.
a glance, a smile.
then disappeared again.
just like a blink.
a short moment
shared.
butterflies flying slow and steady
like they have been for months,
reminding me of your presence.
tangent.
real.

it's you.

"Broken Silence"
Devin Liotta
2012