Linger

Oh, the art of holding onto a moment,
Clinging to every memory of the present.
It’s a familiar habit, I’ve done it quite often; 
Maybe a bit more than you could imagine.

But I’ve never seen it done so intently to me
‘Til I witnessed it for my own two eyes to see.
His eyes slowly faltered, his head gently falls
Onto his palm, while the other held the flowers. 

It’s endearing in the purest way I’ve seen. 
I’d melt at the sight. What could this mean?
I asked softly if he’d like to go back home,
He muttered, I almost didn’t hear him say ‘no’. 

He shook his head, wanting to stay and lean
On the dirty table that the staff had yet to clean.
Comfort stayed in the atmosphere as I watched him
Fight to stay awake amidst the lights that were dim. 

A soft delight warmed my ever-fluttering heart 
That is pounding as constant as the ocean currents. 
My lips curl into a smile, for I knew from the start
That I, too, am fixated on holding onto this moment.