Lines are comprised of the silences in letters
And say more
(It seems)
Than the screams of obsolete profanity
I steal them
And they love me for the sweetness of manipulation’s lullaby
If waterfalls could whisper away the fallacy of words
I would wait for rain each day
And soak in the reality of translucence
As it fell.
Plagued lips could kiss the water
And watch it giggle.
You would know,
Then,
That the shapes printed out in a smile
Were no secret
