I feel your soul in the consonants
you choose.
Whether I can sing your song or not,
I like to taste your words,
vibrating them in my own voice,
rolling them over my tongue.

Expression is the art I collect, and words
are the paintbrush strokes and blow torches and chisels and the
pop
of camera light
that I feel the deepest.

If I can not sing your song, I can love your lyrics,
discovering and holding them
in those exquisite moments where your mind and your heart
sound as one,
when you blink and the world is suddenly
not like it was a moment ago.

I feel your soul in the consonants you choose,
and blindly I reach for it with all my heart,
for in the soul of every person
is a truth

which transcends spirituality,
and needs not touch logic,
but which simply exists, unquestionably, as itself...

and you are giving it a name.