Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

she speaks to me
with the language of the soul
in a dialect peculiar to ourselves
never at a loss for words
our eyes convey meanings
both commonplace and sacrosanct
with a gesture we enter the royal presence
with another we sneak out the basement door
some might say that this is true of all lovers
but that does not diminish
or that we have become insular
and build upon our insecurities
but that does not deter
laying the book to rest, we kiss
and laugh at webster's

subterfuge - and bravado
good piece, dino

Fine poem. Enjoyed.

Thank you. I wrote it around 20 years ago, but made some revisions with punctuation a couple of days ago.