there's no need for a voice to be dubbed
into bright screams of love,
with the laughing,
the dancing it out to the tablas,
but the quiver of a bashful smile,
slumbering responses lazily rubbing their eyes,
simply existing in the air -
that touches you, that touches me…
there's no need
yet
such pretty things, however peaceful, soft,
meandering along through us in s-waves,
evoke such discordance
as these wild manifestations,
as this quickening, sharp,
internal beat
© Stéphanie
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