I held the lines like fragile glass

I held the lines like fragile glass,

words rehearsed to perfect pass.

Each syllable sharp, a practiced dart,

ready to pierce a guarded heart.

But when you stood there, eyes so clear,

the words clotted, choked by fear.

Silence swallowed all my speech,

a wall too thick, a gulf too deep.

That crumpled note in my coat’s tight fold

still holds the stories left untold.