Corner of my eye

How precious those diagonals, that criss and cross along the cloth and plates that island every crease between our foreign glances.

Conversing far beyond our tongues and rules that govern parted shores, there speaks a language, known to those who’ve mastered the unspoken.

Hidden in each hearty laugh and smiles that kindle inner-thought, a vibrant flow, that glows and grows, lights up the room and all its hearts.

How precious these diagonals to hold and harbour all our words, and how subtle we both find ourselves in voicing the unheard.