You are perfect to me in the way the morning is, effortless and impossible to recreate. From the quiet strength in your eyes to the softness that follows when you let your guard fall, every detail of you feels intentional, like the world slowed down just to get you right. I find myself tracing you in my mind again and again, as if I might miss something if I don’t.

There is a pull in you I don’t try to resist, something deeper than want, something that lingers. A quiet craving lives in the space between us, where I imagine your lips meeting mine, not rushed, not fleeting, but certain, like it was always meant to happen this way. And in that thought alone, I feel everything I’ve been trying not to say.