the letter III

it was nothing. she convinced herself of that. yet why did she keep tilting her head forward; lift her head so indiscreetly? all the while her thoughts betraying the truth. eyes searching. waiting.

is that...? yes? ...no. where are you? will you even come? yes, i know you will. you can't hide the truth from me. i feel it, too. funny then that neither of us says a word. silent we are to the touch. but still i wait. and for what? i want nothing from you. i know this. and yourself? is there something you want from me? i can only muse. but i feel it. i think you do, too. the hidden secret we both know to be truth. and as i speak there you are. so beautiful in your raw state. open and honest. but... you pass me as i act like i am engrossed in the material in my hands. please, it was just a bravado. come back. save me from this cruel torture i have made myself endure. and as if you hear my silent plea, a stir in the room has caught my attention. and there you appear, sitting next to me. i can only respond with a weak smile, just like the rest of my body. weak with feeling. sketching as you are, i just sit and watch. thinking. hoping. hoping you'll never verbalize that silent truth between us, crushing all that i hold dear. for then the spell would break and my feelings would be no more.

standing with an unused confidence, she waves a hand and then vanishes before a word can be uttered by the form with those dejected eyes.