Words fall like ash from a burning tongue,
meanings crumbling before they're sung.
Eyes meet--a bridge half-built,half-torn,
where silence speaks and hearts are worn.

I say love you hear rain
I say stay,you feel pain.
Between our voices,oceans bloom,
and every sentence is a silent room.

Gesture and glance,half-understood,
we carve small fires from driftwood.
Yet still the distance grows,unseen--
a faultline stitched in silver dreams.

Lost in translation, lost in the sound,
searching for something never found
--
but sometimes, in the breaking light,
your hand finds mine,and it feels right.