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The Space Between Us

 The Space Between Us

I.
I have walked through mornings
that do not remember light,
and yet, in the hush before dawn,
your name drifts through me,
soft as a feather falling,
persistent as the tide
pressing against the shore.
It is not a voice,
not a memory,
but a pulse beneath my ribs,
a current that carries
everything I have ever felt
toward you.

Your presence bends the air,
turning silence into song,
ordinary streets into temples,
and even shadows pause
to trace your outline
as though they too remember
what it is to belong.
I have tried to count the ways
you leave traces in me,
but the numbers dissolve
like stars fading at sunrise,
and still, I find more—
in the tilt of your head,
in the hush before your laughter,
in the invisible brush
of your hand against mine.

II.
Love is not always fire.
Sometimes it is the slow bloom of light,
the patient warmth that spreads
across a room,
into the quiet corners
where loneliness waits.
You are that light—
steady, gentle, inevitable,
and I am drawn into it,
unaware of how long I have waited
for the simple gravity
of your existence.

I remember the first time
our fingers touched,
the ordinary friction
that became extraordinary
because it carried something
we could not yet name.
I traced the lines of your palm
as though they were maps,
and in their soft curves
I discovered the geography of desire,
the uncharted land
where hearts meet
without words.

III.
Your voice is a river
that flows through me,
sometimes roaring, sometimes still,
but always shaping the landscape
of my inner world.
Even when we are apart,
it hums beneath my skin,
guiding me back,
pulling me into orbit
with a force
that is tender and relentless.

I have loved the curve of your smile,
the quiet courage in your eyes,
the way you exist
without apology,
without the need for the world to recognize you.
I have traced every laugh,
every sigh,
every shadow you leave behind,
and in them,
I have discovered a universe
that belongs entirely to us.

IV.
A kiss is not merely touch.
It is the press of two worlds
finding each other,
the collision of breath,
the communion of time.
When I kiss you,
the universe bends around us,
folding itself
until only the pulse of your lips
against mine
remains.
It is prayer, it is promise,
it is proof
that love can exist
in the smallest, fiercest of acts.

Even when distance stretches between us,
even when the days grow long
and the nights echo with absence,
I carry you in the curve of the horizon,
in the hush of evening,
in the pulse beneath my ribs.
You are the constant,
the quiet insistence,
the gravity
that keeps me whole.

V.
I will love you
in sunlight catching your hair,
in laughter spilling through empty rooms,
in breath shared beneath night’s hush.
I will love you fiercely,
without pause, without measure,
because you are not merely part of my life—
you are the axis
around which it turns.
And in that turning,
I have found everything:
home,
hope,
and the unending echo
of your name
folded into mine.

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