You Tell Me
What would you suggest, for I am not as skilled as you are
When it come to openness, to tears and to public
Acknowledgments of private matters, of little truths reserved for the eyes of
My fear has been deeper than yours and
Honestly of no use, although I’m still carrying it for the sake of
Having a valid excuse even when the date has expired, expired… oh, expired
… maybe even before it was printed on your page…
What are you going to do with the blank profile
Filled only with hints and clouds
No one can guarantee that the little hinted words were stolen?
I steal words because of you,
Just as you had stolen some other emotions for someone else and had given
Them as if they were the
I yearn to know your gifts,
To touch your lips with my fingers when you smile…
…. Because you are skilled
In saying words that I want to hear
And you are versed in concealing words that I dislike to hear…
…you are versed.
How long does it take to know you,
How long it does take to see through you,
And how long can we keep this silence alive?
I feel that my words can
Run into an eternal hiding,
In between those
You know what kind of gift I have left for you.
(… and mind, it can’t be exchanged for two cheaper ones!)