Between our laughs,
a hush lingers.
You’re here,
but half a dream,
a warmth
I can’t keep.
Maybe it’s fear
that keeps the air still,
or trust
still learning how to breathe.
You wear your calm
like quiet armor,
stitched with old ache,
and hope that never gave up.
And still,
I feel the faint pull
of something unnamed,
a thread between us
that asks for nothing,
yet never lets go.
Because even quiet love
reaches out,
softly, without asking.
And I do.
I reach for you
in the hush between our words.