Voices
carry around us like echoes off tall buildings
Bottles
of dreams and glasses of wine sit in front of us.
Empty
Records
skip in the background
I
want to be your microphone.
Silence
The words
from your mouth a barrier for our lips
As
our palms touch I mumble Shakespearean words.
Handshake
Etiquette
confused by lost love languages and new ones
Your
communication fails by the book.
