To Tell

I want to tell her:

her brown eyes light

the room,

the dark,

my heart


I want to tell her:

her hair is

stranded in lovely,

purposely careless,

uncensored amazing.


I want to tell her:

I was lost before her,

her voice sings softly to the dark of me.

That I cannot imagine

without her,

without me.


But I don’t because:

Men can’t

talk to

friends

like

that.

© Michael Barry 2013