We search for shelter—
two shadows moving between spaces,
palms scraped and scarred but open,
not seeking refuge but something softer—

We search—not for doors that lock,
but for walls that breathe,
for corners where the wind slows,
where silence smoothes hearts soft.

We carry this shelter,
like stones wrapped inside poems
we placed in our pockets—
proof that we are not alone.

We gather room to breathe—
where closeness begins in trust
and the patience between our words
where neither of us has to explain
to our demons to stand down.

We do not build with haste.
We do not name this place too soon.
We let it stand and settle,
until the day we know—
this is home.

And when the world rages,
and the night feels too wide,
when the wind screams and howls
of vampires and life-leeching ghouls
we do not run from light and darkness
we do not fight—we stand, together,
having each other’s back
until the storm has nothing left to take
from us and this strong shelter.