Stay until my eyes laugh again. Stay until the dark stops helping us pretend. I wanted to be the shore beneath you, warm enough to slow your breath— keep the shallow shape you left there after you had dressed and left. I wanted to be the evening on you something travelling home beside you that you could never quite wash clean. But the dark can make a promise morning doesn’t understand. When the room becomes ordinary, will you still reach for my hand? I am no more than I am— Just this body in your bed just this heart still hanging around. When the night has stopped performing and there’s nowhere left to hide, will you want me in the morning— not the dream, but what survives? I wanted to be cedar in your hallway, worn silver on a ring— the familiar weight your fingers recognize before they think. I wanted to be what you ask for only after it is gone— not a treasure, just a small thing that had quietly belonged. But wanting to be needed is not the same as being known. When the light finds every distance, will you leave me here alone? I am no more than I am Just this body in the doorway, just this heart still hanging around. When the night has stopped performing and there’s nowhere left to hide, will you want me in the morning— not the dream, but what survives? If I could be one joy among them, I would choose the quiet kind— waking without explanations, leaving every mask behind. No forever I can promise. No becoming what you need. I can only lie beside you and let you look at me. I am no more than I am—
