the morning light wraps us in tenderness,
its dusty warmth filling the room.
i squint out the window
and watch the street cat circle the alley.
a siren in the distance.
everything that has ever happened
has led us to here.
how is it so easy to forget
to be grateful?
—
summer tore us apart
and knit us back together again.
now we're fighting to find balance
between freedom and control.
so we'll sit at the dinner table
and make peace with the unknown.
lay in wide open fields.
pray until we run out of words.
seconds melt into moments
which turn into months —
but most of feels like a big, beautiful blur.
—
occasionally, time stops.
there was this night on the beach
where the moonlight settled on your hair like dew
and we sat in the sand
leaning into each other quietly.
i didn't think we could get any closer.
and then we did.
