Our eyes met somewhere past the fourth wall
I’ve been quiet for way too long
I can’t remember the last time I felt touched by taste or song –
there’s an art in how we find laughter hidden in our memories like misplaced knick knacks or letters from past lovers.
Once so hesitant to speak up, this excitement overwhelms, floods and fills me to the brim like a glass but,
I can’t have you drink me down just yet.