I talk like rivers that never meet the sea, Circling currents, she keeps decoding me. Her eyes catch signals no radio can play, She’s the map of a country I’ve never named. I don’t draw in straight lines, I leave smoke on the page. She reads the pattern in the ash Like a prophet on a stage. She’s the pattern below stars, The silence inside the drum. I can’t say why she moves me I just tremble when she comes. She’s the orbit I fall through Without touching the ground. I don’t make sense — I sense meaning, And she’s where it’s found. I hear her laughter bending the air to gold, Like thunder that hums instead of explodes. She’s the flicker at the edge of my sight at night, Not a beacon — but a pulse, a hidden light. I build towers of riddles. She walks through every door. She’s the echo of a language. I’m still learning to explore. She’s the pattern between stars, The silence inside the drum. I can’t say why she moves me I just tremble when she comes. She’s the orbit I fall through Without touching the ground. I don’t make sense — I sense meaning, And she’s where it’s found. If I could pin her down with words, They would shatter in my hands. She’s the chord that never resolves But still makes me understand. She’s not static. she's the stars. The silence inside the drum. I can’t say why she moves me I just tremble when she comes She’s the orbit I fall through Without touching the ground. I don’t make sense — I sense meaning, And she’s where it’s found
