01
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.
02
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.
03
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.
04
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.
05
I am only a man
learning to love you
the way the world loves the seasons:
completely,
hopelessly,
forever.
06
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.
07
I have loved
with the gravity of planets
clung to bodies
as if they were
lifeboats sailing toward
the infinite hush
08
You are the quiet moon, Luna
you speak little,
but each word turns
the earth beneath me.
09
Today I thank the simple things:
the spoon that rests,
the milk that bends into silk,
the sun leaning gently
through the window.
10
Now, only the echo of you
remains in the steam,
rising like a ghost
that refuses to forget the flavor
of our mornings.