When Our Souls

It began in the quiet,

that slow exhale before the world remembers to breathe.

You looked at me, and something electric

moved through the air,

soft but undeniable,

like a spark that already knew its way home.

Your laughter spilled into the night,

and suddenly everything was brighter,

the edges of time blurring

beneath the heat of our becoming.

There was no before,

only this,

the rush of two hearts daring the dark to notice them.

The stars stood still to watch.

Even silence felt alive,

charged with the rhythm of everything we didn’t say.

You touched my hand

and the world rearranged itself,

as if every light was waiting for that single moment

to rise and bloom.

Then,

the shift,

that sacred turn between wonder and truth.

Because it isn’t the blaze that stays,

it’s the afterglow,

the soft shimmer that lingers

long after the noise has gone quiet.

And there we were,

bathed in what remained,

learning that love isn’t only the burst,

but the warmth that follows,

the slow burn that teaches your heart

how to shine without fear.