If You Could Hear

A silent square, where no word walks,

only feeling comes, and softly talks.

I haven’t seen you, yet I know

in you, my home begins to grow.

Museum-heart beneath stone walls,

where fleeting time in stillness falls,

and every hug in dream appears

as truth that lives in me right here.

If you could hear, I’d ask your voice

to calm my soul when lost in noise,

when it shouts too loud, or bites its tongue,

says things that don't to it belong.

But you would look and simply see –

you are the one who understands me.

And I could never hold a grudge,

for I love your soul, not just your touch.

I sit in silence on bed’s edge,

like faded light in memory’s pledge.

I say no word, I just exist,

you live in me – and I persist.

I love you so I don’t demand,

I wait for neither form nor hand.

If I do wrong, a sound will stir

inside of me – a whispered blur.

You’re not mine – but in me, you’re home.

And if you could hear… you’d know: you’re still not gone.