An Unspoken Time

I'm unable to see it, but I feel in the air

The weight of possibility lingering there.

I felt the sensation, I felt the cold chill

Of unspoken words behind lips that were still.

I caught sight of your smile from across the dim room,

Like a flowering bud that has come into bloom.

I saw every lost words in the depth of your eyes,

And every truth masked by protective lies.

Every action and word, once such mystery,

And now their true meanings are all I can see.

It's the lingering whisper, the voice of the past

That captures us in its undying grasp;

And as your eyes slowly lower from mine,

I'm finally aware of the passing of time.

First six months, then doubled, and now it's forever,

A week, half hour, one moment, now never.

But these are just words to mark something unseen,

Driven by society's need for routine.

For what is time without minutes and days,

A face of a clock upon which we can't gaze?

What if time was measured by missed traffic lights,

By tears that have fallen, or long, sleepless nights?

Can time not be told by the click of a lens,

By the intimate scripture of paper and pens?

Does time not pass with the turn of a page;

With the draw of emotion from joy to outrage?

A whisper, a glance, a laugh, a desire,

An act of the heart, and eyes lit with fire:

Thus are the ways in which time passes by,

Not by the words that the world justifies.

Yet, it's here that we stand with our thoughts reaching out

Conveying the words that we wouldn't dare shout.

The heartbeats quicken and legs turn to clay,

Cuing the time to race quickly away.

Do we dare say the words, take a breath, take a chance,

Or fear the reality of this circumstance?

An unsteady breath; one heartbeat, then two,

A long-drawn emotion so hard to pursue,

But the unspoken words whisper on, overlap

The short distance between us, an impossible gap.

In your presence I'm certain, but I'm frozen, steadfast,

As another beat sounds and the moment has passed.