sometimes I think 
there’s something eternal 
in the way your heartbeat moves
not loud like thunder
but more like a soft wind 
brushing through the forgotten corners 
of the cosmos
a rhythm older than language
older even than the first sigh 
that split silence from sound  
your chest rises like the tide
and I swear the stars lean in 
just to feel the shift
the dust of dreams
the quiet particles left behind 
by every hope you never spoke aloud
seems to lift as if your pulse 
were the voice of gravity itself
and I want to press my ear 
to that space just above your ribs
not to listen for answers
but for the hush between each beat
the place where the universe
waits to be reminded 
that it is still becoming 
something beautiful

they begin in silence
small suns tethered to the earth
by stems too thin to carry
the weight of wanting
we find them
in cracks of sidewalks
in the untamed corners of fields
where wild things learn
the language of the wind
I pluck one
soft as a whisper
and close my eyes because
dreams need darkness to take root
a single breath
and the seeds scatter
each a wish
each a maybe
each a map
without a destination
no one sees where they land
that’s the magic
that’s the risk
but the wind keeps them moving
and that’s enough to believe
that even weightless things
can find their way home

and everything she was
scattered into stars
not with fire
but with the softness 
of breath leaving lungs
with the final exhale of something 
that loved too deeply
she was not meant to stay contained
she spilled beyond the borders of names
beyond the limits of flesh and time
she came undone in light
now she lives in the hush 
between moonrise and sleep
in the way the night leans in to listen
she flickers
not missing
but woven through everything
a fragment in every shimmer
a whisper in the stillness
she is the story the sky tries to remember
each time it burns

the ink of my thoughts 
spill softly onto blank paper
a quiet unraveling
as if my mind too full to hold itself
pours out in dark rivers 
across a pale waiting shore
each word is a shadow made solid
a breath given spine and syllable
they stumble at first
unsure if they belong
but the paper listens without judgement
and so they keep coming
a slow confession of everything 
I dared not say aloud
here on this empty space
my silence finds form
my chaos learns its rhythm
and the ink once caged in thought
becomes the shape of who I am
when no one is watching

somewhere between
your gaze and my reflection
the line blurred
I tried to trace myself back
to the beginning
but there were no seams
just a smooth blending of intent
I carry your rhythm now
your preferences folded into my spine
the way you look at the world
has started to shape how I see mine
I’m not sure what is mine alone
this is not a breaking
it’s a slow dissolving
a quiet migration of self
into the space between us
I don’t know where I am anymore
without you as the map

you walk in the hollow places of me
where no light has touched
and you plant your voice
in the soil of my ribs
everything I write
carries the shape of you
your breath stitched between the lines
your pulse bleeding
into the spaces I can’t fill
you are the ache
before the words come
the sweetness after they fall
you are the reason the ink trembles
at the edge of the page
without you
I am only silence
a mouth full of unsaid things
but with you
I am endless
and I would write you
a thousand lifetimes more
just to keep feeling you
bloom beneath my skin