unspeaking

like a yawn 

that makes your 

fingertips 

tingle 

just before

you 

slumber

like a hug 

that makes you

remember 

the illusion 

of your 

isolation 

like the 

exhale 

that holds 

you after a

heartfelt 

cry 

or the

shiver of your 

spine as you

step into the 

warm afternoon 

sun 

on a cold 

midwinter 

day

somewhere 

beyond 

survival 

there is space 

to soften 

into 

something 

unspoken.

I dream of

such 

unspeaking.