(via rootsgrowdeeper)

Could it be too late or too early. More often than sometimes we didn’t care. We lived like two games of solitaire; waiting to be played by one another for every glance that resulted with a smile neither of us could contest. Silence would surround us with unquestionable clarity— a forgotten language spoken through connection— that carried us with conviction. I could feel her heartbeat through the tip of each finger and see the electricity run through her collarbones like a telephone cord connecting her heart and mind. I could feel the energy from her, and then through me. Wondering if she had noticed the reassurance in my kiss for every goodbye I must resist.