Between the Wanting

I press my longing
into the curve of the night,
where silence hums
like skin remembering skin.
Your name —
a feather caught
between my lips and prayer.

I don’t know
how to reach for you
without trembling,
how to not reach
without breaking.

We are always almost
a breath apart,
almost touch,
almost truth,
our hands full
of could-be.

Belonging has no map
when the body burns
and the soul stutters.
I want you
in every way
that confuses me.

If I could
I’d melt this distance
like sugar in heat,
slide into your sighs
like dusk into seafoam,
belong without asking
how.

But here I am—
a moon with no tide,
a kiss
with nowhere to land.

And still,
I wait
where your absence
wraps itself around me
like something
you almost said.

Simona 🌬️🦋

If my poems and stories truly touch your heart,
would you consider fluttering a little magic my way
by buying me a coffee?
It helps me keep writing,
keep dreaming,
keep letting these butterfly wings of mine flutter through stardust and ink.