28/30: “Tell Her.”
“If hearing her voice is one of your favourite things about being alive,
You should tell her.”
But I can’t help but think
That everything I could say
Would never be able to really tell her.
That I couldn’t copy the penmanship of her soul
That I could only sculpt a shadow of her
No matter how hard I tried
To script the songs in her skin
And the stories in her scars.
That I could never write her a poem
Beautiful enough to bear the honesty
Of the butterflies she’s birthed in my stomach.
The most I could do
Would be to crack her lips apart
In a smile that said sunshine couldn’t shine like this.
Nor could the warm come close to her.
That I can bear to write you less
Because I live you more.
So every time my thoughts copy the Sahara desert
And the only mirages are of her,
An oasis in her eyes
And shade in her embrace,
She jokes that I should write about her.
And all I can say is…
“I’m sorry but I can’t.”
And I don’t have the courage to tell you why either.