when the link between us is bare words
scattered on a page
the back and forth deformed by time
you curl into sleep
as I slip off the covers to start the day
my night still your day
when the connection is scratch and static
odd words break through
I try and decipher mood and sense
from what may be random clues
then it is that my arms miss you
because in the embrace
in the whispered speech of breath
there, are all that words cannot frame
and all the clumsy attempts at comfort and understanding from far away
all the lengthy explanations
all the questions
are so unnecessary
when you are in my arms
there is
only
us
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