Meant to Be

Aiesha, we were meant to be- your laugh the first light after a storm, your name a hymn the wind hums through my bones. Even before eyes met yours, my ribs knew they were hollowed out for this. See how the moon keeps tilting towards you? She's practicing how constellations kiss. And me – well, I'm just gravity in human form, pulling jokes out your sleeve, then quietly folding them into future. Aiesha. Say it once more, softer. Let the vowels stretch like warm honey, let every syllable land on my tongue the way your fingers do- certain, deliberate, home. No wonder time keeps tripping over itself; it wants to watch us start over again. But we won't. We'll just keep walking, palms open, palms full, two people who guessed right that the world was round enough to roll straight back into each other's arms.