We held each other in love’s hushed embrace,
as if the world had learned to soften.
Our lips met in longing.
Two hearts finding their own quiet gravity.
Something crossed between us
A recognition older than words,
gentle and exact.
It lived in what we said
in pauses that felt full
in silence that no longer echoed
The fever of the passion
A closeness that asked for nothing
and yet carried the weight of everything.
Some connections do not seek permission
They simply take up residence in the soul
and refuse to leave.
