Amid the laughter of children —
their running feet, their radiant noise —
you and I exchange a glance.

The world keeps moving,
yet time forgets itself —
suspended between your eyes and mine.

In that moment,
nothing else exists.
When I look at you —
and you see me.

She sits beside me —
as if my name were air,
a passing sound — forgotten.

I turn my gaze away,
pretending to watch the world,
yet all the while — I watch her.

In silence — I admire,
the constellation of her skin,
the little stars — her moles —
scattered across her body,
and the single one that rests
upon her left cheek,
like a secret blessing.

She never knows —
but my hands are trembling,
my heart — unfastened,
a captive to her nearness.

I pretend — yet I am undone.
For every glance I steal of her
is a prayer I cannot speak aloud.

She wore — a shirt of Football —
unthinking — in her grace —
I lifted — and the Secret —
stood waiting — in its place —

A number — like a whisper —
that called — my name in thread —
the day — that I was given —
yet ours — will go unread —

For Signs — can bloom in Silence —
and never bear their fruit —
a prophecy — half-spoken —
the heart must learn — to mute —

I don’t know what she has —
but it pulls me in
like the tide obeys the moon.

Every glance
is a spark against my skin,
every word
a knot in my breathing.

I want it all with her —
the mornings, the storms,
the years I haven’t lived yet.

When she walks into the room
my hands forget themselves,
my heart trips over its own steps,
and I realize —
I’m not just in love,
I’m hers already.