Silent Yet Brewing Storm

                 Silent storms pour as the deafening
thrumming in my mind, beats. Oh how I want to
screm but patience defines the air with the
demanding heat.

                 Daring, tempting me to say my words
yet no bait is unhooked. I stand hoping that the
dreamy words, worlds explode before heavy lids.

                 Flickering blonde eyelashes beat against
pale cream. So much is explained yet nothing makes
sense but that of which increases the smiles. What?
Not a thing. A kind memory, a face in a haze that
just gets who I am, thoroughly.

                 The notion of that I snicker. Oh not in
sarcasm but pure joy, increased happiness. Such a
pained emotion spreads over me and now I implore
a grand hope.

                  Not too desperate, I lean into the density
of a brewing storm. Entertaining the gathering
thoughts with plays of an old memory. I am careful,
yes, not to be drawn in.

                  One by one the opening scenes arrive.
A sigh is pulled from my lungs. Such a sound of
deep compassion and warm laughter. Oh dear friend,
how, why we grow distant? Yet, still, we do not.

                  Such the simplicity of a grand bond,
if I may call it such. Ah the levels, the layers peeled
back. So much has been found, though, do you feel
the same?