I asked the quiet inside me,
Do you love yourself enough
to carry the weight of loving me?
It trembled softly:
I have hollowed the edges of who I was,
and I exist only in the pulse of you.
I wander through my own absence,
my shape unclaimed—
I am the air that bends toward your warmth.
I have forgotten the lessons
etched into my hands,
but in the tremor of your presence
I have become a student of devotion.
My body carries all my doubt,
yet in the gravity of you
I discover a strength I never knew I had.
If I hold myself, I hold you;
if I yield to you,
I am poorly sewn back together
from pieces I thought forever lost.