Reading what is not written as though printed text on page, yet invisible
she nudges his arm ever so gently without sound, knowing he understands.
Hearing what is not spoken as though shouted out loud, yet silent
he winks catching her glance ever so briefly, she casts a wink of agreement.
Touching what is not in reach as though holding it together, yet distant
they gesture from across the room without contact, they each feel the other.
Seeing what is not visible as though painting upon the wall, yet imagined
both aware of the view through their private window, they are so connected.
Loving what is not measurable as though possession dear, yet conceptual
two hearts entwined and tangled hopelessly, both grateful for the entanglement.
Karen Quinn 2013