The Architect’s Note: We build walls to keep the world out, but sometimes, we accidentally lock ourselves in. True connection isn't just seeing the light; it’s being brave enough to sit together in the dark.
I invited you behind the curtain, To see the bricks and the mortar of the soul. But you’re a man of quiet places, a silent warden, Who likes the shadows where the heart stays whole.
"I don’t want my face involved," you said, A simple man, a low-key ghost in the machine. While I was counting the tears I’d shed, Contemplating the sweetness growing deep within.
The dialogue is a rhythm of bread and distance— You’re holding the ropes in the twenty-inch snow, While I’m holding the warmth with a fierce persistence, Afraid of the "Show," but afraid to let go.
We spoke of love as a divine flare, A generated reaction, a God-given spark. But the truth is in the breath we share, When the "Workaholic" fades and we’re left in the dark.
No more "one-time views" or painted smiles, Just the honesty of a heart finally open and wide. I’ve stopped the running, I’ve walked the miles— There’s no more room for the shadows to hide.
No comments:
Post a Comment
What story defines romance for you?
Share your thoughts or recommendations below.
Let’s start a conversation about the intersection of love and literature—I’d love to hear from you.