Lean Your Heart in Close

Friends, I mustn’t tell you the way,
but lean your heart in close;
I'll cover my whisper.
We’ll play the “telephone game.”

My words are meaningless,
Indelible Icons
spoken in
invisible ink.

You’ll recognize this fragrance,
but you’ll never get Its name out of me.

Listen for the taste of them.
Listen on the inside.

Breathe with them as they ripen.
And when it's time,
whisper them on.