I’m Am Here Now

He spoke with the kind of steadiness

that drew me toward him without asking.

Every word brushed against the edges of my fear

until it finally quieted.

The air between us changed

not heavy, just full,

like it could hold everything I’d been afraid to say.

I felt it in the way his presence pressed against mine,

not demanding, just there,

like gravity.

My guard slipped,

slow and deliberate,

and I let myself melt into the nearness of him.

Each breath felt like a confession

I’d never found the words for.

He didn’t promise forever;

he just stayed,

and somehow that was enough

to make me want more.

Maybe this is what desire feels like

when it isn’t born of fear

a steady pulse,

a soft surrender,

the body remembering

that it can feel safe

and hungry

at the same time.