We Don’t Talk About That

Telepathically, your thoughts race over me

They strike during the early morning hours

It’s that time again

But we won’t talk about that now


We’ll say so much that will fit in

The space between the silence 

But those days where we lit up the sky

We won’t talk about that now


But the fantasies creep in

Some days, or most days,

On what we’ve done behind locked doors

Bodies exposed, breathing close

But we don’t talk about that now


Not now, not even close...

lost loveloverssilence

◄ Writer’s Block Strikes Again

The Raging Heart ►


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Mon 25th May 2020 02:06

Thank you so much Adam, Jennifer, and Mortimer for reading and your comments. I appreciate your support. Silence is a tricky subject because it has both positive and negative connotations. Some loves flourish without a single word, the two have that special telepathic connection. Meanwhile, other loves are idle and the silence kills them even more.

Thank you to those that also liked this poem.


Sun 24th May 2020 10:32

The art of loving is conversing without words, and feeling without touch. A lovely poem


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jennifer Malden

Sat 23rd May 2020 16:13

Lovely poem, expressing regrets for what has passed and is lacking now. Loved 'the space between the silence' , and 'those days when we lit up the sky'.


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Adam Whitworth

Sat 23rd May 2020 15:03

Good one.

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