When breath meets breath
Between four lips
One silent song does shine,
As you and I
Above all death
Match radiant brows divine.

When touch meets touch,
To clasp and hold,
One deep’ning joy grows strong,
As in our eyes
We feel the brush
Of Beauty’s quiet song.

When spoken word
Meets spoken word,
And all the soul leaps through,
We shine and fly
One solo bird
Who knows one chorus—“You.”

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to You

  1. Just beautiful, Brian.

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