The Space Between Words

Meaning lives in the pause.

In the breath before you speak,

the world holds everything

you haven't said.

I have become a student of silence —

the kind that follows hard confessions,

the kind that sits across a table

dressed in ordinary clothes.

There is a language older than language.

It moves through touch and weather,

through the way a room changes

when someone leaves it.

I speak it badly still.

But I am learning to let the white space breathe,

to trust that what I can't say

fills the gaps between what I can.

The page knows this.

The canvas has always known this.

The space between your words

is where I live most honestly.