The Unsaid Spoken

It's not a word, or even
A syllable or sound
That enters my mind as something
You've said

It's the cock of an eyebrow
Mischievous squint of the eye
That grin
The one that only inhabits
One side of your mouth

You've said volumes
And I listen intently
Like a child to an aging crone
A whispery voice relaying stories
Of the distant past

That same boundless activity
Found in a waiting child
Boiling just underneath the surface
Of my skin, of your skin

But neither of us says the unspoken
The step that would take us closer
To comfort, would also be
Our undoing

We speak with our eyes, our smiles,
Our energy
We dance along the same vibrating thread
We keep the unsaid spoken between us