poetry ☾

I lose what you’re saying
somewhere between the first word
and the way you say my name.

You talk about something you love
and your whole face softens.
Like joy has a door
and forgot to close it.

I catch myself watching
instead of listening.
Not because I don’t care.
Because I care too much.

Because there is something dangerous
about noticing you this closely.
About wanting to stay
in the middle of a moment
that does not ask anything of me.

I start imagining a life
made of ordinary moments.
The kind you don’t plan for.
The kind you stay in.

Say it again.
Not because I missed it.
But because I want to keep you here
a little longer
while I picture a life
where you are always this loved.