Without Words

Speech
cannot compare
to glimpses of him.
His hesitant glances
from wide violet eyes
marred by false laughter
and untruthful smiles.
He only cries for me
in silent hours
between orders
and sleep.
There is a solitude
with him until I am,
grinning and speaking
but there are no words.
He is perhaps
too empty so,
like my eyes
unless together.
There are only
occasional
frightened touches
fearful electricity
before our eyes.
A despairing voice
that I never head
but it is his.
His words would break us
if I heard them.
Instead
this fleeting
whisper of a caress
and the ring on our fingers.

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