We did not talk last night.
Not a word was let out when you pulled me towards you as if you wanted to tell me a secret.
Your lips advanced to my ears, nibbling away, without a word.
Arms wrapping around a tense torso, bodies crashing into each other like silent waves that hit harder.
You covered my lips just at the moment I opened them to ask you to kiss me.
I sang back a Requiem to the sonnet that you had recited in my mouth.
The night heard nothing.
No audience to our beautiful slam poetry.
Fingers picking out words out of my mouth before they could escape.
Tracing your jawline to only get to your throat, stealing the words in utero.
We did not talk last night.
No words could do justice to the conversation that happened.
