Evolution

I don’t think this started

like you think it did.

I don’t think you know that

I wanted you here

for a different reason.

I don’t think you know that

you fix a part of me

you didn’t even know is broken.

But you do.

And I think that’s OK.

I’ve learned it doesn’t have to be complicated.

We speak silently, invisibly,

with words.

And I hear you perfectly.

And it’s making us brave.

The mountains have shut my mouth,

the sea washes away my words,

and distance is keeping us safe.

It’s burrowed under every iron train rail,

nestled in the old Swiss eaves, and

tucked in the quiet corners of loud Italy.

But it’s your turn.

I’m only speaking silently until

you’ve been made brave enough.

And then the train rails,

the eaves and the corners

will yield up

what can maybe heal you, too.

July 19, 2013 (I think)