We were so quiet afterwards, 

still radios tuned to soft white noise, 

keeping one another close

while looking for words to form.

Until then, we're faithful companions

to love's lonely skin, 

fingers lazily interlacing, 

naked bodies spooned together, 

our heat trapped beneath blankets.

While I look outside, the curtain a thin

layer of blue gauze, 

the city's lights surround your small

apartment like towers of lit candles, 

winter's unmoved air making a quiet amplifying everything.

Clocks ticking through empty houses, 

icicles snapping free from frozen tree limbs, 

the steel husks of trains moving along distant tracks.

Your hand gently squeezes mine and 

reminds me that hours ago

Everything in us was turning, 

an entire world flowing through your voice trembling against my ears, 

those delicate wordless sounds a language I never knew until you enveloped me.

We were so quiet before then, 

companions guided to each other by 

an enigmatic compass spinning inside, 

knowing that we had to meet here one night.

That we would leave ourselves to braid together and unspool, 

that we're knots waiting to be tied and undone.