A few summers ago when I saw you standing in the corner of the room, I knew that you would mean something to me; something strangely beautiful and wildly fascinating, something too mine to be yours.
I remember the night we spoke till three in the morning, you showed me a part of you I never knew existed in your being. When I told you about my stories, you listened to them over the phone with the kind of patience that set the insides of me on fire. I said I was pure chaos, you gave me calm and said, “keep this”.
One time when we were dancing with our friends under the rainbow lights of the disco ball, everything was so new. I didn’t know so many people, I was so unsteady to give them pieces of me I kept reserved for someone right. You saw me sitting in a couch, hidden from the music and the lights, and sat next to me. You told me a joke about the sun and you gave me friendship and said, “keep this”.
When we were walking down the streets of a city we’ve called home for as long we remember, you showed me places you’ve loved all your life. I looked at you with shiny eyes and a fluttering heart. Something changed in matter of seconds and the chemistry in my body were now equations I was never familiar with. That night, I told you about my ex boyfriend and you gave me arms to cry into and said, “keep this”.
The sky was purple one April evening, we were watching the sky from your rooftop and playing old songs while the lights decorated every street of city like it was a festival that was meant to be celebrated. I told you how you’ve started to mean something to me that I can’t put my finger on, something deeply personal, something that moves me and changes me. You gave me your hand to hold and said, “keep this”.
Remember that one time, we went for lunch with a bunch of people we didn’t give a fuck about and we fought over how you preferred someone else over me and I told you how I was falling for you and you were messing with my mind. You put my hand on your heart and said, “keep this”.
We spent weeks after that in the heat of your skin pressing softly against mine on all kinds of days. It was beautiful and intimidate. The idea of loving someone who feels a lot like poetry made me want to go fetching for more words to add to their beauty.
One quiet evening when we laid in bed and it was raining for hours already, you looked at me with honey eyes and pink lips and I kissed you because your lips and mine were always meant to converse with each other.
You wrapped my arms around you and said, “keep this. keep me”
And I said, “I will”
As I kissed you
To let you know
That my home had a heartbeat
And it sounded just like yours.