The Girl In Red

My desperation

Visible in my eyes, silent,

Appears, the girl in red.

The drizzle

All around, singing,

Conversations, silent.

Evaporating

Into the sky, waiting,

Coalace into clouds.

My fingers

Speaking to her skin, bare

Unhurried, unspoken.

My song

Searching tune, quivering,

Soundlessly, abysmally.

Yet the song,

Humming, of creation,

Of arrival and departures.

Painting landscapes

Inside her, deep,

Brushstokes, mine.

Someone reminded

Not always, poetry,

Is written, with words.