Soon

"Two weeks. A fragile bridge between longing and touch."

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“I exist in two places, here and where you are.”
― Margaret Atwood

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Two weeks.
A fragile bridge
between longing and touch.

We have not stood close enough
for silence to be something shared.

I will look at you
as if I am seeing something
I have already loved
for a very long time.

And maybe we won’t know
what comes after.

Life does not pause
just because my heart has learned
a new kind of promise.

I learn patience
not as absence of longing,
but as its gentler form.

Learning how to quiet the part of me
that wants to call you
mine
before the world has even seen us together.

Just you.
Real,
and mine to meet.

Just me.
No longer imagining,
but there.

And whatever comes next
can wait,
because loving you
has already begun.

I wonder
if the universe itself
will feel smaller
or finally,
for the first time,

complete.

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Almost, my love.