It is our silence He hears.
It is our thirst that drinks.
The heart pumps harder, when we bleed.
It is the lightness of absence
that moves the tides of company.
It is the vast emptiness
in which the enormity of the beloved
discloses.
It is our thirst that drinks.
The heart pumps harder, when we bleed.
It is the lightness of absence
that moves the tides of company.
It is the vast emptiness
in which the enormity of the beloved
discloses.
