We sit in the quiet,
two hearts beating in the same rhythm,
yet separated by a chasm of unspoken words.
I want to speak to her—
the words gather in my chest,
heavy and restless,
but fear grips me tighter than courage ever could.
So I wait,
hoping her voice might bridge the silence first.
But she doesn’t speak,
and I wonder if she, too, is trapped
in the same delicate web of uncertainty.
Maybe she’s as unsure as I am.
Maybe her thoughts echo mine,
questioning every glance,
wondering if it means what she hopes it means.
Or maybe,
just maybe,...