If my words
fall into sky
they would become
crystals dancing
in your breath
If my words
drawn into music note
they would play a tune
spinning out
into your ears
If my words
written in lines
they would be read
by your lips
Only if there were
just a few more lines left
unheard stories—
they would be found
in the book
in your palms
And then, dear,
may my words
come to rest
in your heart