She liked subjects that brought up his career, his ideas.
She prayed for others to mention his name.
She liked to talk about their similarities and how unexpected they were.
She liked to talk about herself in relation to him.
But she never said his name,
or talked about his eyes.
Or about how his smile took up her world.
Or how many times she had imagined them together.
She never talked about him, just the exterior things that happened to associate with him.
Never about how his voice calmed her nerves,
or how he could make her sit still.
People thought he was just another planet in her orbit,
but he was was her whole galaxy.
The glitter in his eyes made up her stars
and he was her everything.
But she talked around and not about so no one would ever find out just how much of her existed in him.
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