I need you like twilight needs the stars,
like weary hands crave a gentle touch.
The world is softer with you in it—
its edges ease, its air turns warm,
the weight of longing lifted in my ribs.
I close my eyes and reach for you,
and though miles stretch between us,
I find the trace of your presence still—
cologne and cigarettes,
smoke curling soft in memory,
a scent that whispers, I am near.
If I could pull you through the distance,
fold the hours between my hands,
I would rest my head against your shoulder,
breathe you in until the ache fades.
But even now, love lingers in the quiet,
a steady pulse, a tether unbroken.
You are not gone, only waiting—
your laughter still echoes,
your warmth still lingers,
and your name, when spoken,
is not a wish, not a prayer—
but a promise that love remains.
