What could you say of that day –

of an abrupt unplanned meeting,

eyes squinting through the ravaged expressionless faces of us

Almost as unfinished split ends of lives,

What could you say of our unsaid, unguarded awe of each other –

that lost itself in the gradual uprooting of our ways.

Could you elaborate on the unspoken gaze between us,

invoke the arc of our embracing touch to include much more than what it might let go of,

vanishing fast, hastening towards the dark grip of night,

Streaked and fallen like winter rust –

all that is left behind when fall ends,

the eerie drunkenness of sleeping centuries

under the heaviness of my diaphragm,

its unscathed quest, an uncensored want,

of weaving words of desire unrestrained,

Yet could you tell how this eternal pain of longing, this vexation, waiting feels

– more than enough?