If you stay,
let it be not out of habit,
not because the nights feel colder alone,
but because the sound of my name
still feels like home on your tongue.

If you stay,
let it be with both feet in,
no glances back at roads left behind,
no whispers of almosts and maybes
only the steady hum of us,
growing, unfolding, becoming.

And if you must go,
go gently,
leave the door ajar,
so the echoes of what we were
can find their way to rest.