you are the chapter
I always return to
the page folded down
soft at the corner
worn from all the times
I needed to feel you again

in the book of my life
you are the part that breathes
where the words slow down
and the world feels
like it might be enough

the ink of you lingers
not bold or loud
just steady and true

I could turn a thousand pages
wander through whole volumes
but still
I keep your place marked

because even if the story continues
even if the plot twists
you are the chapter
that taught me
how to feel the words

a breeze forgets
the name of the flower
yet kisses it anyway
lingering like a secret
the petals cradle close
soft but blurred by time

the sky hums
in no particular key
still I listen
as if silence
might unfold a truth
the world once meant to say

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