He sings, no,

hums, or maybe

whispers a song.

No. It's dead silent.

But it is a song that I don't know, 

it is almost a foreign language,

there is no sound other than the song of understanding.

He looks at me with my head in my hands, quivering lip, glistening eyes, fighting drops of sadness,

and touches the side of his nose.

Secret code, I nod. Yes, I need to talk.

He points and we get up and leave, 

we didn't say a word, nobody else could understand

anything we said,

not even his girlfriend. Because it was silent.

She looks at him as we walk away and he mouths "I'm sorry".

She knows he will be back, but I think she is hurt.

I didn't want to hurt anyone, I just need help.

And he is the only one who can carry the silent tune of understanding.

 

The stage is dark as we walk on, and there's no one else there.

He folds me in his arms and I spill over.

My head is in his hands, my lip is no longer quivering, it is shaking with sobs, and I don't fight the tears.

And we stand.

His mouth is by my ear and I can hear him. 

He has a lovely voice.

He is singing, no,

humming, or maybe

whispering a song.

No. It's dead silent.

But it is the silent song of understanding.

 

And I know he cares.