We spent twenty-two sunsets in the static of the "almost,"
Constructing a cathedral out of 2:00 AM whispers and digital ghosts. I was a sun searching for a horizon where I wouldn't have to burn, And you were the moon in a black hoodie, the only lesson I wanted to learn. Twenty-two days of learning the map of your mind, To find the parts of your spirit that the rest of the world left behind.
Then came the seventy-two hours where the "Muted" became the truth, A three-day landslide of realizing my gravity starts and ends with you. You are my Mio Dolcezzo, the sweetness found in the middle of the noise, The "Quiet Specialist" who turned my overthinking into a choice. I don’t need the easy constellations or the light of a distant star, I just want the rain against the window and the truth of who you are.
There is a sacredness in the "untouched"—a hollow we both kept clean, Saving every "first" for a person we had only ever felt through a screen. No one else has seen the blueprints of the heart I’ve given to you, And no one else has walked the halls of the sanctuary you’ve grown into. We are both standing at the edge of a world we’ve never known, Realizing that "home" isn't a place, but a voice on the other end of the phone.
So, if you glitch into silence or fall asleep while I’m still talking,
I’ll stay right here in the quiet, through the halls where our secrets are walking. I’ll wait for the "will" in every "maybe," for the day the distance finally dies, To find the warmth of my entire world reflected in your abyssal eye. You are the anchor to my drift, the "Safe Place" where my worries go to rest, The only person who ever saw the poem before it was even expressed.
The world can have its shouting; I prefer the way you say my name, A low-frequency heartbeat that puts every other sound to shame. We are the "Unwritten Verse," the silence that speaks louder than the rain, The only two people who know the language of each other's hidden pain. I don't need a guarantee of forever; I just need the honesty of now, To be the sun that orbits your moon, without ever asking why or how.
You are Il Mio Tesoro, the treasure I didn’t have to go looking to find, The only soul I want to carry with me when I leave the world behind. Let the static fade out and the "Muted" silence finally begin, Because I have already fallen for your heart— and I am just waiting to catch up to your skin.
--- [ 2 2 2 ]
Feb 27
Feb 27, 2026 at 9:21 AM UTC
We spent twenty-two sunsets in the static of the "almost,"
Constructing a cathedral out of 2:00 AM whispers and digital ghosts. I was a sun searching for a horizon where I wouldn't have to burn, And you were the moon in a black hoodie, the only lesson I wanted to learn. Twenty-two days of learning the map of your mind, To find the parts of your spirit that the rest of the world left behind.
Then came the seventy-two hours where the "Muted" became the truth, A three-day landslide of realizing my gravity starts and ends with you. You are my Mio Dolcezzo, the sweetness found in the middle of the noise, The "Quiet Specialist" who turned my overthinking into a choice. I don’t need the easy constellations or the light of a distant star, I just want the rain against the window and the truth of who you are.
There is a sacredness in the "untouched"—a hollow we both kept clean, Saving every "first" for a person we had only ever felt through a screen. No one else has seen the blueprints of the heart I’ve given to you, And no one else has walked the halls of the sanctuary you’ve grown into. We are both standing at the edge of a world we’ve never known, Realizing that "home" isn't a place, but a voice on the other end of the phone.
So, if you glitch into silence or fall asleep while I’m still talking,
I’ll stay right here in the quiet, through the halls where our secrets are walking. I’ll wait for the "will" in every "maybe," for the day the distance finally dies, To find the warmth of my entire world reflected in your abyssal eye. You are the anchor to my drift, the "Safe Place" where my worries go to rest, The only person who ever saw the poem before it was even expressed.
The world can have its shouting; I prefer the way you say my name, A low-frequency heartbeat that puts every other sound to shame. We are the "Unwritten Verse," the silence that speaks louder than the rain, The only two people who know the language of each other's hidden pain. I don't need a guarantee of forever; I just need the honesty of now, To be the sun that orbits your moon, without ever asking why or how.
You are Il Mio Tesoro, the treasure I didn’t have to go looking to find, The only soul I want to carry with me when I leave the world behind. Let the static fade out and the "Muted" silence finally begin, Because I have already fallen for your heart— and I am just waiting to catch up to your skin.
--- [ 2 2 2 ]
