Midnight calls through glass and wire,
flickers hum with soft desire;
timid words, then roaring streams,
kindle lanterns in our dreams.
Tales of life and wounds confessed,
woven hours with songs caressed;
echoes cling to whispered lines,
binding heartbeats into signs.
Silly notes and stolen grins,
threads of silver on our skins;
distant hands that still can hold,
warm despite the air grown cold.
Broken sleep for fleeting voice,
yet we call it sweetest choice;
no regret in losing time,
only stars that sweeter climb.
Her soft laughter bathes the night,
every note a softer light;
even silence dares to stay,
where her spirit carves the day.
Screens may glow with paler hue,
but her eyes still pierce me through;
truth in pixels still can sing,
of the life her love can bring.
At the school where benches fade,
we carve meals in borrowed shade;
simple food, yet sacred shared,
like a prayer with heads bowed, bared.
Parkside moments catch the sun,
empanadas on the run;
clumsy jokes and hurried bites,
fill the hunger of the light.
Golden coins in buzzing halls,
arcade lights, triumphant calls;
victory in losing games,
when she leans and speaks my name.
Mirrored walls and endless aisles,
catch her face in fleeting smiles;
trinkets bought, forgotten soon,
yet they hum a timeless tune.
Naughty whispers, laughing chests,
breaking rules in gentlest tests;
guilty grins and lowered gaze,
waltz between the careful plays.
Paper bags and tangled hands,
walk the weft of shifting lands;
snacks devoured in secret pride,
small rebellions, side by side.
She corrects my errant sums,
while her beauty leaves me dumb;
lesson lost in laughing eyes,
counting stars across her skies.
Every step, a quiet stitch,
sews the poor man to the rich;
richer still are those who weave,
every breath they dare believe.
Thus we gather seam by seam,
every tear and tender dream;
life not built by grand design,
but by glances, yours and mine.