I wanted to tell you so much

I wanted to tell you so much,
I had every word thought out
and I knew perfectly well what I wanted to confess,
But like an ostrich I hid my head.

Maybe I was consciously silent,
maybe this time has not yet come,
maybe the leaves have to fall from the trees more than once,
for the right moment to come.

Or maybe I will put it off indefinitely
and you will never know,
because silence is gold,
though it hurts so terribly.

Will we live like this in understatement,
in half-open words,
with lips waiting for a kiss,
that they will never experience?