Beats and breaths

When it is time to be said, I trust it will be said. My voice does not always speak it, but it is always spoken.

One grassy day we lay, birds chattering above our heads, and you rested. I dropped my head atop your chest and listened. I listened to the wind pulse through your chest in beats and breaths, and felt you quake by each. I forgot to think, and so learned how to speak.