writing: slow burn

You are a slow burn.

Like morning, peeking into the cracks of my room and imperceptibly filling every corner.

And like waves, crawling slowly up the sand, not announcing every new inch they're steadily claiming, but laying foundations just the same.

And just as softly and surreptitiously,

You blended into my gaps, my skipped-a-beats, my between-the-lines.

Until your name is somehow already on everything my mind touches, and your approval is my silent catalyst, and your arms are my unexpected anchor, ready just behind me, bracing me at the elbows.

And your mark is heavy on my skin, though i can't recall pausing to give you permission.