"Don't you feel jealous, that I'm taken?" You'd once asked.
I had smiled
And held your chin up
Dewdrops rolling down your eyes
And onto the blushing crimson cheeks
And as I pulled you closer in the ill-lit spaces
And kissed the tears off your cheeks
And as I looked you in the eyes
And held you tight enough to not fall apart
And as I tucked your hair to the last strand
And our lips met and lost their way
I told you, "In the deafening noises of the screaming society and the stinking bins of the make belief tales, you're my silence."
