Let Me Tell You Now It Is Too Late.......17

Beached on an opposite chair
separated by the misunderstanding silence: sand
which fills my mouth,
blows to your ears

I knew I should have said
before,
when you expressed
an interest,
that my ideal of courtship
would be to be held
until I can't cry
anymore,
knew you'd never touch me, now,
across this parting wave
of unshed tears.