your silent voice

i read your poem
the one you put in my pocket
and i'm being honest when
i say
i can't tell you
what i thought

i read your poem
with my lazy, sleepy eyes
you told me exactly 
how things were
and i felt
nothing

i'm looking for
the poet
whose inner voice catches my heart
by the sleeve, and 
pulls me under its 
warm coat, on a cold night
i've never had those
sweet moments with you
we can't talk about everything
that ever crossed our minds

i touched your jacket and
brushed your hair from your face,
but i still felt lonely when 
you were there

so i sent you a reply,
on a poem i otherwise would have kept
sacred.