Before You Say It

You start a sentence, then you stop,
but I already know the thought.
Something shifts behind your eyes,
and I can feel it before it arrives.

No explaining.
No need.
I can hear what lives underneath.

Half a word.
Half a sign.
Somehow your meaning finds mine.

Before you say it,
I already know.
Before you name it,
I feel where it goes.
Somewhere between us,
the meaning arrives
before you say it,
before it becomes alive.

You give me fragments,
I see the whole,
a quiet map I've come to know.

Every pause, every turn,
every little silence
has something to learn.

You don't finish.
You don't need to.
I'm already there with you.

No translation.
Nothing lost.
We meet somewhere
before the thought.

Before you say it,
I already know.
Before you name it,
I feel where it goes.
Somewhere between us,
the meaning arrives
before you say it,
before it becomes alive.