"Touch is the first language of love." – Unknown
Talking is hard. Too many words. Saying too much, or nothing at all. Long winded sentences, tangled into each other. Silent questions. Undecided pauses. Hurried explanations tumbling out of open mouths. Misshapen thoughts, spoken in haste.
How to make sense out of all of this?
Perhaps we should kiss instead.
When feet gently lift off the floor, and bodies curve to find each other. Warm mouths meet, and we softly float in the air.
There is silence.
No words are needed anymore.
This edition of my newsletter ‘Strange Ordinary days’ is prompted by Marc Chagall’s painting. In his autobiography ‘My Life,’ Chagall writes, ‘her silence is mine, her eyes mine.’
Comments