Disarm me
You move through the world
like a quiet kind of storm,
long dark curls tracing constellations
down your back in every form,
ice blue eyes that quiet the noise inside my chest,
a steady presence of warmth,
soft enough to heal and real enough to fully invest.
Your hands...
The architect of skin,
carrying the quiet weight of battles survived,
etched deep within.
They were made to create and to mend,
to comfort my fears and hold on till the end.
There is a softness in you,
moving gently through my shadows,
filling all the cracked hollows,
rewriting my dark into shades of day,
asking nothing and choosing to stay.
You’re wit and fire,
silly and sharp,
funny enough to disarm me,
sassy enough to spark.
Clever enough to read every sign,
catching the words I never give voice to,
hidden between every line.
You love hard,
care deep,
a kindness the world didn’t teach you to keep.
Strength wrapped in tenderness,
steady and true,
the kind power that carries the ones you love through.
Your scent on my wrist
makes distance feel untrue,
folding the world smaller
till there’s only me and you.
I love you,
soft as a truth meant to stay,
not loud, not rushed,
just me choosing you,
again and again, every day.
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