I breathe like the tides of fog. Just as you do in the quiet glow of dawn. You move through my world like mist—soft, certain, and inescapable. There is no edge to you. No place where you end and I begin. You linger in the spaces between my thoughts. The hush before I wake, and in the warmth that stays long after you’ve gone.
You are the air in which I am reaching for. The hush I so desperately crave. I find you in the way the morning light filters through half-drawn curtains. In the way my hand still seeks yours without thinking. You do not ask to be seen, and yet you are all I see. You do not demand to be felt, and yet you are the pulse beneath my skin.
If love is the mist that sways and swirls but never truly leaves, then I am lost in you—happily, endlessly.