The low whir of wheels hums beneath us,
And fills us with soft melancholy.
I feel the curve of your cheek in the darkness,
The wetness of your tears against my palms.
Silently, you place your hand against my heart,
Feeling the cavern beneath-

This cavern stretched taut with lies,
Worry and the slow ache
Of waking up from a dream of you,
Of opening my eyes to the hollowness of the ceiling,
And realizing with a quiet gasp
That the warmth of the sheets is my own.
Of smiling emptily to amorphous faces,
Rubbing this cavern tenderly
As if to ease myself in to apathy.

But I woke softly this morning,
And it was like seeing your eyes slowly open,
Dark eyelashes arcing in to the still air.
Then I knew We could struggle through damp paranoia,
We could dig through the layers of dried,
Brittle jealousy
And find something pulsing and soft
Waiting beneath.

Warmth glows like the soft white light
Passing through your eyes.
Glowing, glowing, glowing.
We are drawn together,
Intertwined like slowly twisting stems.
Breathlessly I whisper these words to you,
Words that swell and sway gently in our hearts.
As you smile,
I can feel something unfurling sweetly
Between Us.