In the Invisibility

whereas I, by chance, talking to myself, finding myself alone, enclosed by four walls and a door, knock to see, in the invisibility, with x-ray ability, not held, if you dear reader, sitting by your nightlight, might switch it on and find a word to speak silently or out loud; your choice. the ones you borrow from a native tongue, feeling their incomprehensible weight, stopping mid-sentence, to ponder if you are moved in the slightest bit; I’m biting my lip in anticipation, though I’ve no inkling that you're mulling over my thoughts, my doubts, my innards, my all. now, I, think of you, sitting by a scintilla of light, moonlight marvels at the roundness of your lips as you nearly sing your “o’s;” sonnets seem sensual alongside the bed, though always grieving. love is a dog, a walk in the woods, a lark. leave me be. let me remember you as I long to. don’t say goodbye, but leave my sighs on the table, where you first met me, and I almost met you, and you, dear reader, take back up with me, though now there’s a familiarity between us, lost in the shadows, amidst the stars and you can nearly hear me breathing.