We talked again this forth night
as the wind sang through the cracks
in the walls of this house, but I wasn't
cold as her voice warmed my heart,
and set my mind in trance of her
passionate wordplay choreographed
with the calligraphy of her dreams.

I felt like I was there by her bedside,
held her hand, feeling the blood pulse
through my fingers, her breath against the
nape of my neck; she keeps the air in my lungs,
floating along as the melody strums,
and as we lay down together
I let the waters flow over us.

For the first time, silence was just a
monologue with the heartbeats
in rhythmic motion as our eyes fell
three flights down to the
gentle clouds silhouetted
beneath the aurora of stars,
on the highway to anywhere.