The Truth That Never Manifests

This is an ode to joy
And harmony of souls
Entwined in the heat
Born in the spark
Of exasperated speech
And heavy panting
Seeing our future
In droplets of sweat
That careen off of our
Singular form

Like an animal
Attempting escape
From inside of it's own head
The mental prison
It doesn't have the capability
Of properly articulating
This confusing, this horror
The art of not knowing
When we dance
And we cry in the grey moonlight
And we talk and we walk
Saying things we wish we could elaborate
But these walls are always present
Never ceasing to cripple the truth
The truth, the truth
That burns us up inside
But is just cold enough
That it never manifests
It never makes it to our tongues
To touch our eardrums
To vibrate that part
Of our collective heart
For us to truly
And for ever
Know exactly
What the other
Actually
Feels