The Way She Tells Him
She does not state it point blank to his green-gray eyes or breathe it into his neck She does not write it with childlike script on jasmine scented paper or hum it into his morning coffee She does not moan it to the rhythm of his tongue's tracing or yelp it mid pitch and roll She says it without a whisper to the velvet dawn: Pressing her scarred wrist against his heart she lets the pale vein pulse know me know me know me