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