The Whale in the Men's Room

Some people are like the sea, they feel and know
it all, but cannot say one word,

For talking just distorts our deep connection.
The tiniest of nods is full of grief.

I see a lady crying to herself, unbridgeable
with um's and ah's—even a glance disturbs the purity.

Minds like stars are so deep inside us
they seem impossibly far away.

Oh the horror if we found out the greatness
That empties out of us in every moment.