Corner of my eye

How precious those diagonals,
that criss and cross along the cloth
and plates that island every crease
between our foreign glances.

Conversing far beyond our tongues
and rules that govern parted shores,
there speaks a language, known to those
who’ve mastered the unspoken.

Hidden in each hearty laugh
and smiles that kindle inner-thought,
a vibrant flow, that glows and grows,
lights up the room and all its hearts.

How precious these diagonals
to hold and harbour all our words,
and how subtle we both find ourselves
in voicing the unheard.

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