Untitled (not for long)
A subtle whisper, it titters at the edge of sound, its there
Barely, minuscule in its presence
Ever-present, like air
A touch, so fleeting, never enough
A question,
should I dare?
Lay it out, if you must
That the soul conspired a rampant affair
I said with an earnest nod
With a flame so bright it burnt my heart
And thats all right.
