This thought

this thought
cradled in my hands
my mind caressing it with syllables
of possible pronunciation

I can taste it on the tip of my tongue
and feel its sweet intention

soft warm meaning
somewhere waiting;
growing in realisation

but while I still long to conceive this connection
belonging suddenly covers the intend
and blankets me
where I need it most

all rolled into one
with - when you speak my mind


..