Caught in a Dream

stolen looks

stolen looks pepper our timeline

each silent glance the ghost of a conversation

a conversation, though, that doesn't really need to happen

because we both know what those stolen looks mean

they're syllables we can't string together

Words we're unable to sound out

sentences we can't quite construct

They are unspoken acknowledgements

That are better left to the the gentleness of a smile

Than the depth behind a confession

The weight of the looks

Is lesser than the burden of the words

And so we'll stick to them

The stolen looks

And let our eyes say

What we cannot.