Morning.


I woke up and before I even opened my eyes 

you were already moving around the house.


The tea was already warm. Breakfast waiting like it always does, 

your quiet way of existing that never asks to be seen 

and still fills the room.


Everything was there before I was.


And something in me broke open. How foolish I was, 

how easily I forgot that love doesn't always arrive trembling.

Sometimes it wakes you gently and waits until you're ready.


Years pass and the extraordinary learns how to be quiet.

Touch becomes routine. Stability gets mistaken for nothing.


Sometimes you can have everything and still wander.

You never wandered.


You stayed when I was distant, when I was overwhelmed, 

when my body pulled away and my words couldn't explain why.


You stayed without punishing me for it, without keeping count, 

without threatening to leave.


You desire me not loudly, but fully. 

with the same hunger, the same attention, 

as if we just met, as if my skin still surprises you.


No one has ever held my body with this much safety.

No one has ever met my soul with this kind of patience.


How foolish I was to doubt a love

that keeps choosing me every ordinary day.


Some things burn. Some things endure.

And you, you endure.


How foolish I was.

How endlessly lucky I am to wake up 

and remember that I am already home.




Coraline

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