handled gently, like something that still remembers love.

i learned how to hold myself together.

even in rest, we reach for each other.

rest feels holy when the world asks too much.

i hide where tenderness still feels safe.

i was made carefully, so i learned to break quietly.

i learned devotion before i learned love.

and when the light found me, it didn’t stay, but it reminded me i was still here.

i became careful with my heart, like porcelain learning how to crack.

so i laid myself down in the quiet, pretending the ache was rest. i carry my longing softly, like a song only i can hear.

i learned tenderness from things that couldn’t stay.

i miss a place i’ve never been.