Language

They are using different languages
But are speaking the same words
Translation is just the skin
The interpretation rides on

Speaking the syllables of a smile
The metaphors of touch
They delve far beyond where mere meaning begins to congeal
Her lips move, purse and part
And he hears their rhythm
His eyes blink, flicker and miss
And she's read his story

Their instruments of expression rest on the intangible
Through poems of embraces
And sonnets of caresses
Through phrases of togetherness
Breathing through the pauses
And punctuating each breath.

Their grammar consists of peace
Stitched together with limericks of trust
Spun out of the yarn of affection
Their verbs are synonymous with Love
Creating and distributing all its forms
Dyeing in, shades of harmony
Into their exalted fabric of Life.

Their speech is a but a look
A thought
An intention
Conveyed through wordless prose
And tranquil wonder
Spoken through brackets of voice
And saturated silence.

Each letter
Of each gaze
Narrates the strength of their story
They complete each others sentences
Without the words to speak
They know the conversation of feelings
And the blind communication of Love
Because understanding goes so far beyond words
Beyond forevers
Beyond translations
They know
And that is their only language.