You are the pause in the storm,
where the world exhales
and everything stills,
a quiet gravity pulling me closer.
I cannot hold you,
but I feel you—
a warmth that lingers in places
I didn’t know could ache.
Your voice moves through me,
a thread of light weaving
the edges of my scattered self,
binding what was lost
with what I didn’t know I could find.
In your presence, I am more
and less—
a paradox, complete.
You teach me that love
is not a moment,
but a motion.
And so, I follow it,
and you.
Dec 29, 2024
Dec 29, 2024 at 6:17 AM UTC
You are the pause in the storm,
where the world exhales
and everything stills,
a quiet gravity pulling me closer.
I cannot hold you,
but I feel you—
a warmth that lingers in places
I didn’t know could ache.
Your voice moves through me,
a thread of light weaving
the edges of my scattered self,
binding what was lost
with what I didn’t know I could find.
In your presence, I am more
and less—
a paradox, complete.
You teach me that love
is not a moment,
but a motion.
And so, I follow it,
and you.