discordant attunement

i'm crying into his arms wanting nothing but their touch
but touch is all they can give
no soliloquy of thought can transcend through his finger tips
no warm harmonic hug
can hold the depth of spoken sound
just space between ours fingers
in which
a thousand of my question
sits

too late to break the silence
for it is not up to i to guess
it is more right for i to be
safe in the freedom of me
authenticity
in speech
no longer teaching forlorn ability

i seek more than i love you
i'm sick of searching for just something in some wide eyed passive saucers
no symphony
just distance
and i can no longer ask for something unable to give

i mourn him
yet i seek to be seen
but instead of the words i so desperately need
what stops the tears
is his reminder
- his silence -
that i am doing the right thing
for me
finally