He feels the beat of her heart. Every pound beats with silence.
Silence.
She's like a twisted clockwork of sorts. Working with gears on the loose, wheels on reversal.
Rewind.
Forward.
He takes the letter, words for reaching into her heart.
He's watched and heard this long.
He hasn't stopped listening, working for her pulse to drum music.
He hasn't stopped fixing, turning the gears with all his might.
He hasn't stopped loving, though her numb silence can be her only reply.
Another sunrise.
Then her silence turns to quiet music. A breath of hope.
And for once, we're finally moving somewhere.
YOU ARE READING
When Words Were Stars #Wattys2014
PoetryOn rare occasions When my emotions burst into words, I find myself painting poetry and prose. #Wattys2014
