Mispronounced I heard you clearly enough,
speaking into the negative space between us.
A whisper becomes a shout,
becomes a cry for mercy,
when the timing turns right.
Impressions wear away.
Soft as your shadow above me...
in the moonlight shining through your vacant heart.
An infinitive phrase to keep watch with,
to keep time with,
to blot out the nothing that comes with the sun.
Shelly Price
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/reality-of-love-4/
