Saturday, May 3, 2025

Schrödinger

He curls like a question mark
against the hollow of my ribs,
soft punctuation to my silence.

Listens without tilting the world,
just eyes that whisper
yes, my friend, I hear you.

No platitudes, no advice,
just the warmth of a small, steady heart
pressed against my breaking one,
his soft purr bridging
what words can't say.

The weight of the world feels lighter
when I share it with someone
who doesn't ask why.

 

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