I wish I could pause time,

for then,
if I spent eternity by your side,
held close by your hands,

I’d finally get enough of your intoxicating self.

Or I’d spend a hundred years
becoming the perfection you deserve,
so when you opened your eyes,

you’d see me kneeling with the ring,

that shines not with light
but as a reflection of your essence.

Maybe then,

I’d feel your arms drape over my shoulders,
my hands along your waist
as we sway with the rhythm
of our unspoken chemistry.

Or maybe,

I’d spend the first eternity
admiring your eyes,
and the second
lost in the phenomenon
known as your ethereal gaze—
something no lens could frame,
only admired.