
Pause
When you were with me, you spoke more honestly, laughed more freely, as if you knew even then it wouldn’t last forever, loved more bravely, and believed, if only for a while, that tenderness could survive in this world.
The collection

When you were with me, you spoke more honestly, laughed more freely, as if you knew even then it wouldn’t last forever, loved more bravely, and believed, if only for a while, that tenderness could survive in this world.

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.

If you come my way, you do not choose me, you choose you, the you that has been calling from deep inside the dust, the you that has waited like a slow dawn unfurling behind the fog.

A man fights many things in his life, but the river inside him is not one to break with fists. You watch it. You learn the shape of its current. You drink your coffee and breathe.

I cannot decide whether I am following you or being followed by the thought of you, but the distance between us shrinks and stretches like a corridor that refuses to stay one shape.

I am only a man learning to love you the way the world loves the seasons: completely, hopelessly, forever.

You are the serenity that travelers mistake for chance, the whisper a forest keeps in the folds of its leaves. There is a constellation tucked into your gaze, a patient flame, not burning, but glowing, like a truth that refuses to shout.

I have loved with the gravity of planets clung to bodies as if they were lifeboats sailing toward the infinite hush

You are the quiet moon, Luna you speak little, but each word turns the earth beneath me.