Almost (The Breath Before Waking)
09.05.2025
In the blur of a crowded room
you reached for me first,
arms pulling me in with a warmth so solid
I swore I could touch it still.
What began as casual
grew heavier, truer—our bodies holding on
longer than friends should,
longer than time should allow.
That hug was real.
I felt its weight in my chest,
the quiet press of belonging,
the way our hearts
spoke without words.
You looked up,
eyes alight with something unguarded,
and whispered, I missed you.
I smiled back, helpless,
because I had missed you too.
We leaned closer,
the air trembling between us,
the world narrowing
to the space of a breath—then I woke.
And still,
I wake with the memory of it,
a touch that lingers
like truth disguised as dream,
asking me what it means.
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