Breathless

I feel her before she comes,
like dawn warming the edges of night.
Her nearness thrums through the silence,
a heartbeat the world listens to.
Even the wind slows to taste her name,
and I, I become a prayer, waiting to be answered.

Her eyes hold a language older than words,
pulling me into their calm storm.
Every glance writes poetry across my skin,
each smile softens the edges of my doubts.
Her touch is not flame, but light,
Light that teaches darkness how to love.

I remember the way her laughter wove through stillness,
how it stayed, gentle and endless,
like rain deciding to rest on petals.
The air bends around her presence,
and I swear my soul breathes in her arms,
finding its home where her warmth begins.

When she is near, time forgets to move.
My thoughts lose their walls, my heart,  its guard.
There is nothing left but the cadence of breath,
the soft promise between our eyes,
and the tender madness of being known
without ever needing to speak.

If love could be touched, it would feel like her,
a slow bloom beneath the ribs,
a soft yearning  that never asks to end.
She is the pause between my heartbeats,
the reason silence feels like music,
and longing feels like grace.

And when she leaves, she doesn’t really go.
Her warmth remains in the corners of my chest,
her voice stays folded in the folds of memory.
Even distance cannot dim her ,
for she lives not in sight, but in soul,
and my soul has never learned to let her go.

@doddyokelo