Too many perfect words,
clothed in such a tone of cerulean sincerity,
create an eddy of anxious pleasure in me
that coils into a feline heap deep in my core
and lay there purring under your intellectual caress;
my abundant self-doubt coaxed into contented repose.
The long, restful stretch of our easy silence,
enough to instill me with long-sought peace
from the incessant chant of insecurities that shackle me.

12/13/2005

Author's Note: My silence, more than my many words, is what moves you.

Posted on 12/14/2005
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