melted

what we don't say out loud

dated the eighteenth of february.
feet pad against blankets, fingers tap against screens. cards shuffle, soup bubbles, hearts flutter. the things you don't need to say that you hear. we are in our own little world between gray dots. a message pends, and is sent. the text tone is inevitable.
night falls without a sound, and we chat in silence. the things i wanted to hear you say. a phone call spent mostly between inaudible breaths. the loudest voice is he who speaks with intent. you say there is nothing in your brain. your voice is quiet. the things you felt the need to say out loud ring in my ears.
in the morning, i rise to a dozing house. the snow muffles the shouts of a new day as it covers the windows. we live our separate lives. you, as talkative as your lines allow. me, more pensive than usual. i can't help but think for us.
dating, february eighteenth. the two of us. an unlikely story of quiet moments. games of minesweeper, tales of childhood moments. the things we show to each other. perspective. hairline fractures in a mirror i once saw your reflection in have led me to look at you realistically. a scientific mind, blunt yet kind. unable to exactly express your intentions. i can't help but wonder how you see me now.
a starting whistle. foam dodgeballs bouncing off hardwood floors. the creak of the stands, the hoarse intermittent coughs. there are no sounds that accompany the moment you look back at me. my heart does not beat louder at the glimpse of your unrestrained grin. no onomatopoeia required when it's written all over our faces. a conversation with no words, a confession that dissolves at the tip of your tongue, a sugar cube sweeter than any serenade. symbiotically feeling feelings.
together.