The weight of the unsaid
Hangs heavy between us
Layered sentences and half-muttered words
Said with hesitating halts and jittery jumps
The fists clench and unclench
Pondering whether to set the truth free
And for every pregnant pause
The air reeks of anticipation
We know what is to be said
It's the manner of doing it that eludes us
3 comments:
It's the silence before the storm. Once it rains, it'll pour. Loved the concept of your piece. :)
@chintan: hehe! some people love the rain :)
Oh yeah, getting drenched is good. Thats what I meant. :)
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