I think but don’t speak. I think “Don’t give up on us.” I think I’ll say it. I think I’ll be late. It’s a habit I’ve hated, especially now. Especially now, when I need to find my voice. It can’t be too late. I know some will say, the timing is wrong, bad luck. Just…

You are bright as sunlight, perfect in my eyeline, reflected halo around your soft hair, in a maze of mirrors, truth told on hopeful glass. You kiss me softly, as I watch so many memories of us, that have yet to happen, far in front of my eyes, I stare, intently, as if it will…