Ceases To Exist

When you walk through sunlight,

reality reorders itself.

Edges soften, vectors realign,

as if the universe remembers its own proportion.

You presence doesn’t announce itself;

it calibrates the world.

Every reflection, every pulse of air,

adjusts to the quiet ratio of your grace.

You carry serenity the way others carry defense,

unaware of its value,

but all who cross your path bend to it.

Even light, impatient by nature,

lingers on her like a forgotten vow.

I once lived in abstraction,

measuring life in variables and war.

Then you arrived like a theorem proved by affection:

that symmetry can feel like safety,

and trust can be exact without control.

Now, when you walk in the sun,

I do not see radiance.

I see correction.

The world aligns,

and for one moment,

entropy ceases to exist,