Whispered between us

If I reach for you,

it is not to bind you.

It is to say,

"Here I am, open, hoping."

If you pull away,

it is not to wound me.

It is to say,

"I need to breathe before I can belong."

We are not opposites.

We are two waves,

cresting and falling,

learning the rhythm

of trust.

Your silence is not rejection.

My reaching is not demand.

We are two truths,

aching for the same peace

in different ways.

Let us build a bridge —

not of compromise,

but of curiosity.

Not of control,

but of consent.

Let us say:

"Come when you can."

"Stay as you are."

"Love without losing your breath."

And when the tide is right,

and the moon leans low,

we will meet

in that quiet place

where neither of us

has to shrink

to be loved.

Only then

will we know

what it means

to be truly

home.