Thread Of Silence

 We sat with hands unspoken, a flame between us.

The wind knew our names before we whispered them,

and we vanished—into a smile.


We feel the flowing fire of cold here,

you and I, beneath the moonless night’s quiet beauty,

as the birds drift without direction.


The sky will be watching us,

and we will show it

what it means to be a thread of silence.


You and I, breathing in, will be together,

distant from idle words, you and I.


The breeze of heaven will leak its light

as we sit close, you and I—


in one form, this hush,

in another, a stillness made of flame.

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