Yeah, couldn’t think of a title for this one, love.

Writing this poem comes close to a déjà vu.

Like it’s a mix of words that I’d choose

In the past, but just slightly different.

To describe you I need a new diction.

How do I even know these words,

That surprise my tongue when they roll across.

Perchance I’ve made some up.

Maybe it’s nonsense I blurt.

Let me be a fool and listen to me tell

It was all a big joke in an attempt to convey

That silence is nice, because it’s the language we share

And I know you'll hear my words as if I was there.