written while under the influence

i'm writing this now to you
writing while under the influence of you
and your gaze that creates a daze in my somewhat pale maze
and i'm thinking of telling you things you should already know
but may not because i speak inside the innermost layers of my soul
when i think of you and the things we've said and haven't said
at least not out loud and never, never once, while in a crowd
of people who most likely know or at least could guess
that there is something that lies
not so deep in the surface layers of written words and spoken whispers
that there is something there that stares at us in the otherwise empty space
something that longs for nothing more than escape
to be brought to the surface and explored once more
something that was yours and mine separately but longs to be blended
and mended and quietly tended when and if need be
wake up and smell the lingering presence of me
that exists in and out of your dreams
take my hand a little more than you have my heart
and finally finally speak what your brain blocks out