Sunday, March 2, 2025

Quiet Understanding

The stem of your wine glass
turns slowly between your fingers,
while my mind races somewhere far away.

Our eyes meet in the middle,
and just for a moment,
we speak without words.

You finish the glass,
set it down and move closer,
take my hand in yours.

Your eyes whisper,
It’s safe to fall here.
So I do.

Your arms envelop me,
quiet the storms in my head,
and in a single breath,

I'm at peace.

 

No comments:

Post a Comment

Featured Post

Diary

I never learned the rules about meter or metaphor, or what not to say out loud. I just write what lives inside me: the bruises, the blossoms...