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Tongue Tied Love
Is it the culture that brings grace to your every step.
The silent smile laced with inner strength.
The newness in your dark brown eyes,
as you look in wonder at the world around you.
Sketching my little abode as you sit by the bank,
each move brings life to an empty paper.
The fowls usually cross those waters in territorial disorder,
now gliding like figure skaters on the mirrored pond.
Only slightly failing to match your beauty, the way you do everything with light.
We stumble on words.
My jokes get lost on every punchline.
You still smile knowing I try.
Our language built on different parts of the world,
our love able to break the barrier that our voices are unable to say.
Culture is as night and day.
You still look past my western faults.
Those same eyes still hold my every thought.
Our meeting by chance, you the only one willing to get close to me.
I was still lost picking up the pieces of my new chapter.
Jigsaw puzzles without any pictures to guide me.
I sat beside you at dinner, you were somewhere else.
It was until much later that I noticed you were looking at me.
As I was too occupied hiding my glances towards you.
The longer I write this the harder it will be for her to read it.
My meaning lost in tongue tied love.
Trying to hold back my words, maddening at every empty key.
Alas.
I may not know tomorrow.
And history has taught me to understand that everything changes.
My life but a leaf in the wind.
I will not however worrying about the fall.
For now I am happy gliding with you.
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