Those silent, ◦ unspoken secrets. ◦ Carried by the flutter of ◦ cold fingertips and liquid eyes ◦ that melt, with the rest ◦ of the world, ◦ Oblivious. ◦ Oblivious to the sounds ◦ of the unsaid, the looks ◦ that may have been just looks. ◦ But we all know, ◦ That they were more, ◦ For every look is a thought, ◦ shared, remembered, ◦ Somewhere in the infinite ◦ grey of the mind. (x)