Oh, to be loved like a pulse. Consistent. Steady. Like a hiccup, involuntarily. Loudly. Sometimes so much that it hurts. Like a walk in the sun. Being held by someone. A mother seeing her child open their eyes for the first time and trying not to cry as they hit the light. a teacher knelt before her carpet of children. A father knelt before his daughter. Two brothers knelt before each other. The first glimpse of summer. An off-key note sang in absolute joy. a first tattoo of a childhood toy. An anchor. A birthday banner. A handprint engraved on the wall of a cave. The first time we tried being brave. A necklace of kisses. A laugh so intense it hisses. A clover, three-leaved, still feeling lucky. Saying “thank you, it’s been a pleasure” and “please don’t leave me, ever”. Meaning it. Really feeling it. Learning that scared is a scrambled sacred and all things can be undone.
Oh, to be loved. to be loved, to be loved, to be loved.
12:25am - 25/04/26 - my bed