The First Warmth
It did not come
in sudden flame,
nor rise with need
to stake a claim.
No urgent spark,
no restless start—
just something shifting
in my heart.
A quiet thaw
beneath the skin,
where silent spaces
held within
began to stir—
not ache, not plead,
not driven by
a desperate need.
My body stilled,
then slowly woke,
as if the places
once thought broke
still held a pulse,
steady and true,
untouched by all
I once went through.
And in that hush,
without demand,
I felt it rise
without command.
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