Allowing It In

Bloated with emotions
or hollowed out when it’s gone,
full, empty, and craving again.

A love should come and lay a hand upon you —
unexpectedly, quiet and unassuming,
one so gentle, at first glance you will deny it.

This love arrives when you’re not ready for it,
caught in the chaos of your own healing.

Inconvenient or ill-timed, it will pass.

But don’t let its passing deceive you —
recognizing something beautiful,
yet feeling unprepared to receive it,
is the first step toward allowing it in.

Your Sweetest

Have you ever noticed the way the floor shifts —
the way sound follows your feet,
pressing into shoes that still feel new?

I watch you from across my bed,
catch your reflection
in the window
while looking past it.

Would that reflection ever look this curious again?
Like someone meeting a mystery for the first time.

Honey, maybe your exes
are watching us from somewhere,
wondering if I’ll learn
with nothing but words.

My words,
start to feel less accidental,
more like imprints left behind —
something warm,
something that lingers
long after you leave.

I ask about your past,
you offer simple answers.

Complexity — it scares me too.
What are you not saying?

Is it hiding,
or just letting silence
do the work?

How much not knowing
becomes knowing too much?

You play it cool —
a natural actress.
I can see it.

Tell me your sweetest.

The Parents

A doorman reads to the tenant’s child,
his voice steady, practiced —
not for his own son,
who waits at home

The nanny cracks a smile,
rocking someone else’s baby,
her own child learning to fall asleep
without her lullabies.

The child listens,
wide-eyed,
held by hands
paid to care.

Everyone but the parents,
tucking in dreams,
tying shoelaces,
wiping small tears.

The doorman closes the book,
thinking of a face
he only kisses goodnight.

Timing

It is never too early
and rarely too late.

So she leaves —
quietly,
without apology,
carrying only what she came with

Herself.

One More Time

Wanna see each other one more time?

Just to sit,
the same air,
watch minutes fold into night.

One more time?

Ha

It’s not always that the right words find their way from my brain to my mouth….