Love That Reaches You

Your name rises inside me

like a warm current drifting upward,

quiet but certain,

steady in a way that settles the whole day.

Even the smallest moments

seem to tilt toward you,

a glance at nothing,

a breath that deepens without reason,

a sudden calm that feels borrowed

from the way you look at me.

There’s comfort in how easily

you thread yourself through my hours.

Not loudly,

not with any demand,

just a gentle presence

that softens the edges of everything heavy.

Some days, it feels like you’re beside me

even when the room is completely still,

as if the distance forgot

it was supposed to matter.

And slowly,

almost without noticing,

something shifts inside me.

Not a turn,

more like a quiet unfolding.

It becomes clear

that reaching for you

has never required a bridge or a signal.

You’re already woven

into the rhythm of me,

a heartbeat echoing

in its own familiar cadence.

So when the world grows loud

or the sky leans too far away,

I steady myself

with the simple truth

that we’re connected

in ways the body can’t explain.

I feel you in the calm,

in the pull beneath my ribs,

in the certainty

that closeness isn’t measured by miles.

It’s something lived,

breath by breath,

pulse by pulse,

always within reach.