When is it enough?
A little breathing room
Pull instead of a touch
A little distance
Few less words
Then it slides into hollowness
So when is it enough?
When the silence is louder than the words
When the pull becomes a push
When the distance fills months
When the mouth makes no sound
Almost enough...
Then a simple spark of energy, a thought of me.. And you speak to me, touch me, fill the distance, and it's too close to breathe.
Never hit enough, but the anxiety of it smashing into me, and how many times it's already come to fill me, makes it almost inevitable.
