an attire that my thoughts wear,
beautiful..as long as they conceal the ugly despair..
its a striptease when you don’t see what you want to..
whats inside at times i myself have no clue..

when i was born used no words…
my thoughts to behold were never blurred..
then was given this armour called speech..
to conceal this world started to teach..

wrote answers to conceal my ignorance..
said “Present Teacher” to fake my presence..
but at home was read through my eyes..
didn’t need words did not have to lie..

i saw you and was speechless again..
for you to see my thoughts alone remained..
then it occured it might look obsecene..
used words ..tried explaining what that silence did mean

i ended up weaving more fabrics of words..
am just happy..that i’m being heard..
and here i live just weaving..
and there you wave leaving..

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