28. Untitled

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I love people

Who I can be silent with.

Who lets the air be filled with unspoken syllables.

Who lets silence be silence,

Doesn't push it away, unwanted and ugly.

Who makes it beautiful,

Not just empty and bland.

Who makes it thoughtful -

Lets me see the marathon in their eyes.

Who doesn't puncture the air with filler words,

But rather morphs them into something

That when spoken,

Riles up my emotions. Makes me think. Makes me laugh.

Who lets the buzzing in the air,

The sound of breaths escaping us,

And the heartbeats in our chests

Sing in our broken ears.

Who doesn't tone them down,

But emphasizes them.

Who looks around, then back at me,

And when the tranquility is finally fractured,

It is replaced by something

Meaningful. 

The History of Belonging (2017)Where stories live. Discover now