Exile
Exile is not being sent away
it is being forced to live
where meaning still exists
but permission does not.
You feel it in moments that misfire:
a laugh arriving too early,
a thought addressed to no one,
a warmth with no object.
-
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When I Say ‘I Love You’
When I say I love you
time loosens its belt.
The past stops arguing,
the future leans closer to listen. -
Geometry of Longing
Perhaps this is love now,
not the collision of bodies,
but the sustained attention
we offer each other
across impossible space. -
You, Again
Night brings you without apology.
You lie beside my thoughts
as if you have always belonged there,
as if forgetting were a language
my body never learned. -
Unsent
I tell myself: stop.
Enough ink, enough hunger.
Enough reaching across air.
But the words do not listen.
They spill from me
like water from a cracked jar,
like poems that learned your name
before they learned restraint. -
I Sit in Silence
I think of you
the way fruit
thinks of summer,
inevitably,
without impatience,
accepting sweetness
as a form of waiting. -
Hopeless Romantic
Do not think I exaggerate.
Love is exact.
It measures the distance
between two chairs,
counts the seconds
between one message and the next,
knows precisely
how much silence a heart can carry
before it breaks like a plate
dropped on a kitchen floor. -
Coffee, Croissants and Quiet Mornings
And here I stand,
between house and horizon,
between what England has been
and what this morning
is briefly willing to promise,
content to witness,
to make no speech grander
than this simple fact:The light arrived.
It found me ready. -
-
Embers
Perhaps one evening, when
the blue hour has
fallen like a soft
cloak over our shoulders,
we will find ourselves
in that quiet center,
the sacred hinge between
day and night where
breath takes the shape
of prayer.
