Audi, vide, sile

to M.

Audi, vide, sile. 

Do you hear it?
A faint fracture,
a trembling note
in the rhythm of my heart.

Undo my shirt.
Let the air in.
Open the window wide.

Do you see
how autumn stretches out,
vast and trembling,
like a living thing?

Be silent.
Remember how we arrived at this point,
remember what each of us
has walked through.

I don’t want to be a sail,
nor the restless wind
that drives it.
I long only to exist,
to sink into the quiet of the moment,
to simply be.
Let me just be.

I want to feel you.
To gather you in my arms.
To breathe in the scent of your skin
as though it were air itself.

I need the gravity of you,
your weight.
Your inevitability.

I will pour us wine,
light the fire.
I can be tender,
you know that.

But tenderness
has so rarely been mine —
rarely offered,
rarely accepted,
rarely allowed.

And yet here you are,
and something in me softens,
uncoils —
like an ember awakening to warmth
it had forgotten it could feel.

Take my hand.
See?
I’m melting.

P.S.
You forgive me,
you always forgive me.

You deserve the deepest love,
and I’ll do everything I can
to make sure you feel it.