There is a way to say exactly what you mean without using words.
To tell her that “girlfriend” will never be enough of a word
to label a world of happiness which I hope to continue providing.
To say thank you for breaking bigoted binary code; digitally remastering how to be aquamarine.
To say language is limiting, but our conversation started on the backs of nervous tongues, tangling and tying timidly to commitment, and then to love.
To say I love you, without it needing to be a blanket in the shadows of times hardened by distance, in places where her smile can’t see the sun, but her eyes still shine.
There’s a way to say happy anniversary without turning time into something invaluable.
So here’s to finding a way to say it: to a happy accumulation of linear time.
when you’re a writer
and the words get stuck in
your mind, because they aren’t words
and you don’t quite know how to describe it without
letting you know how deeply insecure
I will always be.
There aren’t words for knowing this
could be the end of what never could be