Ramparts

Your words have blown away

in life's gales. The house of self

that stood for decades

has been shaken.

But where words used to

bulwark the home where our hearts

sat together, we can build a new frame.

We don't need the words, I promise you.

Today, you watched silently,

as we blustered and bustled around you.

Were your thoughts and opinions trapped

under the rubble of the changes that have come?

I want you to know, I saw you. To keep you

from digging for those buried words,

I ran my hands down your back. I touched your hair. 

I stood beside you and leaned in. 

You leaned back. We ourselves can be the ramparts

built over the wreckage of your broken words.

We can still be each other's home.

Lean into me again. 

Lean into me until you rest 

with your dismantled words.