a glimmer
not just light
but the soft unrest
of something unspoken
trembling at the edges
your eyes don’t shine
they carry
the way dusk carries
the last warmth of the sun
the way silence holds
a heartbeat
before the music begins
there’s a language there
older than words
a quiet gravity
pulling meaning
from every glance
sometimes
it feels like the stars
borrow their fire
from you
but only for a moment
before it returns
to settle in your gaze
A language older than words. Damn.
Thank you 🌷
This is beautiful Jennifer
Thank you so much, Noah. Lovely to see you over here 🙂