waiting on the other line

intimidating, confrontational—
a restless pulse that never slows.

i love her sometimes.
i love her every time.

there’s a line:
thin. fragile.
we invite each other to cross it,
but the invitation is always late.

no matter where we run,
it’s always waiting—
the person we can’t escape:
each other.

in love’s invitation, i saw:
the pain,
the empty space we carved
inside
for one another.

it consumes us whole,
then spits us out—
endless, unmoored.

we shatter the patterns,
but piece by piece,
we gather what’s left—
rebuilding, together.

in a few short days,
what once felt lost
is beautiful again.

your face shimmers
at the bottom of my glass.
i can’t drown you out.
you surface, again and again—
a reflection i can’t escape.

a reflection i don’t want to escape.