I want to learn how
you disappear mid-thought,
just so I can leave little things
you’ll find when you come back.

I want to notice how your eyes wander
when the world gets too loud
and quietly offer a better view
—maybe me.

Not in a grand gesture—
just the way a kettle hums before
you realise you needed tea. (Or company.)

You don’t have to ask.
You don’t owe me anything.
But if you let me,

I’ll be there—
steady, like attention that
shows up with snacks

and maybe a compliment
you weren’t expecting.