In the corner of the room, the shadows sway.
Fingers trace dreams that drift away.
A glance is shared, so quick, so deep.
A silent vow the night will keep.
The world retreats beyond the door.
Yet here we are, needing nothing more.
Your breath, a rhythm soft and slow.
Your soul plays a song only mine can know.
Memories flicker like stars on high.
The world was perfect, just you and I.
Laughter and sorrow, hand in hand,
Woven through time like grains of sand.
Hold me now. Don’t speak. Just stay.
Let silence chase the noise away.
Let’s pretend we don’t have bruises.
Be the us before excuses.
So here we are, just you and me.
A moment wrapped in reverie.
No need for more, no grander flight.
Just love, alive, in soft twilight.
Fingers trace dreams that drift away.
A glance is shared, so quick, so deep.
A silent vow the night will keep.
The world retreats beyond the door.
Yet here we are, needing nothing more.
Your breath, a rhythm soft and slow.
Your soul plays a song only mine can know.
Memories flicker like stars on high.
The world was perfect, just you and I.
Laughter and sorrow, hand in hand,
Woven through time like grains of sand.
Hold me now. Don’t speak. Just stay.
Let silence chase the noise away.
Let’s pretend we don’t have bruises.
Be the us before excuses.
So here we are, just you and me.
A moment wrapped in reverie.
No need for more, no grander flight.
Just love, alive, in soft twilight.
3/31/2026
The Words That Got to Me
I guess I know from personal experience that as poets we are able to put ourselves into scenarios which are not ours, which we do not personally inhabit. But, having said that, I also know that writing poetry is deeply personal and there is always something of the writer in everything they write. Where those poems are about love, as this one is, then I would say, again from personal experience, that most, if not all, is the poet speaking. Your words capture a moment that was memorable, but has been made even more so by these words. Fingers tracing is such a sensual image and I like how you bring in the soul and its implied connection. There is one couplet though that cuts through the veil of almost perfection and hints at something darker. "Let's pretend we don't have bruises Be the us before excuses." I almost feel, and this is just me wanting to preserve the beauty of the moment your words have captured, that I would rather that couplet not be in this poem. I know it might be crucial to your meaning, that love has overcome these problems, but then why use pretend? Sorry Heather. Maybe I'm being too precious.