Much For Words

We weren't much for the words when we are together,

Our afternoons split in silence, cradles us,

To make a makeshift peace we built in the living room, trying to hide from the world.

Moments where the only eyes looking at us are each other's.

I wanted to tell him, "That all I am can be what you want if you just wish it, or say it quietly between the few tiles of space separating us."

But we both know promises don't mean much if all we had to stake was ourselves,

So I look at my eyes overflowing with things I dare not tell; insatiable desires.

He leans forward. He knows what I wanted to say.

That, "If I bit my tongue and your lips are the only thing that could save me,

Would you ignore the blood just to have a taste of my mouth?" 

But we are not much for the words; so he just closed his eyes, 

And brought his face tenderly to mine.