You think I tell you
Everything.
Every thought and fear
Every breath I save to whisper as you hide.
But I don’t.
I have neither words nor color to shine all my truths for you.

You think you know
Everything.
Every touch and tingle
Every spark I feel from your fingers on my neck.
But you don’t.

Do you feel my heart leap when you chime into my day?

And do you taste the salt on my earlobe catching pillow tears?
Can you know the ache that follows the breadcrumb paths, creeping time moving back to you?

Maybe.

Maybe you do.