The Love We Are

The love I feel—she holds things inside past where they should end.

She knows once spoken, they settle into the world and stay.

Where no one can see, something in her shifts the weight of everything.

The most beautiful parts of her remain just out of reach.

The love I touch—a quiet charge in her fingers against my hair at the edge of the Earth.

From the womb to the tomb, something in us waits for a feeling like this to arrive.

We reach the edge without warning and do not turn back.

Drawn forward, I take her hand as everything begins to fall away.

Too late to begin again, too early to be finished.

The love we are—held between what begins and what disappears.

We live inside the moments that do not stay.

Moving forward without needing to be told.

The love we are.