a language of her own

she had a way
of saying everything
by saying
nothing.
a look would do,
the casual blinking
of lashes,
a sigh,
a brushing of
the hair off her
shoulders.
the slight buzz
of hmmm from
her lips
was a novel
of opinion, which
you absorbed
and understood
the second the sound
touched your ear.
the tapping of
her finger was an
alarm
going off.
she had a language
of her own,
that needed
no words.