I used words carefully with you
My tongue, used to rapidly navigating terrains
Of other people’s minds, paused, relishing
The words that opened my soul
To you, before anyone else.
I danced in the beauty of the words that escaped my mouth
To let you in. I was jittery with excitement
To put them together in sentences meant
To reveal, without metaphor.
You did not linger over words like I did,
They slid off your tongue without thought,
Weight, or consequence.
When my words turned from heavy dew
Drops sliding from the edge of a cool leaf
To the frenzied cries of a burning bush,
Your fingers twitching, brushed them off
They broke. Words are fragile, you see –
Did you know then, they would drive me to silence?
My soul may be more fragile then the words I chose to make you see
And see you cannot, now. Not anymore.
That space is marked by quiet.