The Metamorphosis Between
We've come as far as words will with every syllable, breathing life into death with every pause for air. Anxiety fills our pores, our mouths with cotton. Eyes wandering, minds wondering, imagining every content silence yet to be.
We notice as infinity extends into the horizon of our fingers, intertwining to break long-standing peace between each outline of absence. Each interrogative space filled by the presence of another, greater than the sum, than something said and heard.
Greetings predicated by our lips curled upward, crooked teeth revealed, gums exposed to the sharpness of tongues but pays them no mind.
Apologies resting on nooks beneath the watery graves of our eyes, like colorless dye, see-through, but stains the opaque nature of guilty cheeks.
Affection warms the brows, unwittingly wrinkled in pursuit of curtains drawn to the ground and down the bridge of our noses, bridging the gap between entities so anything, everything, and nothing need not be said.
