Unfinished

We distilled ourselves into concise versions,
The best of what we could be,
While revealing our flaws too.
I wish I had the chance to take you through my personality comprehensively.
I would have shown you every milestone, every scar.
I wish I had the chance to discover the multitudes of your moods,
your hopes and insecurities.

What do I call this, what we managed to have in this little while?
There was barely enough time to conceive it, to let it develop.
We are products of a world obsessed with rationality,
And yet, in the quiet hours before dawn,
hidden from everyone, I half-whisper it to myself,
This word in its most fragile, nascent form,
that could have grown enough one day
To be said out loud.