Pray Tell

I do not know how to broach the subject again.
Pray tell. I hope you are not waiting for me to make the first move.
Because. I don't know how.

It's a niggling dustball on the floor.
And I've been sweeping it under the carpet every other day.
Pray tell. I hope this dustball does not grow into a permanent stick in the mud.

The words are oft on the tip of my tongue.
Pray tell, I hope to roll them off of it but before I can.
Somehow the waves of my cowardice pulls them back into my parched throat.

I do not know the way forward.
Perhaps my mind is not acute enough to find a way around the brick wall.
Pray tell. I hope to find a way soon, to circle it or to climb over.

Pray tell. I hope to have my heart in peace soon.