The Gravity Between Us

There’s a gravity in the way you move—
A pull I feel in the quietest moments,
When your hand brushes mine
As though it’s by chance,
But my skin knows better.

Your eyes hold a language
That doesn’t need words.
They flicker,
Dark with knowing,
Soft with something I feel in my bones.
A glance across the room,
And suddenly the air thickens,
Charged with everything unspoken.

The world tilts when you’re near.
Even in stillness, you’re a storm,
A tension beneath the calm,
Like the hush before lightning strikes.
I feel it in the space between us,
In the way your breath lingers against my neck,
In the curve of your lips when you’re close enough
For me to taste the promise of your touch.

We’ve travelled miles across continents,
But it’s the distance between heartbeats that holds me captive.
I remember the heat of the Australian sun on your skin,
But nothing burns like the brush of your fingers
Trailing across my collarbone.
I’ve stood at the edge of vast lakes,
But nothing feels as infinite
As the way your hands explore
The familiar landscape of us.

There’s a rhythm to us—
A slow, deliberate pull,
Like tides that can’t resist the moon.
I get lost in it,
In the rough edges of your laughter,
In the warmth of your breath against my ear,
In the way you whisper my name
Like a secret only you’re allowed to keep.

You are carved from something rare—
All sinew and soft strength,
A body that fits against mine
Like it was always meant to.
Your touch is a map I’ve traced a thousand times,
But every time feels like the first—
Familiar,
And yet
Undone.

Even in the soft light of morning,
When the world feels quiet and still,
There’s an ache in the spaces you leave behind.
I crave the weight of you beside me,
The warmth of your skin against mine,
The way your presence wraps around me
Long after you’ve slipped from the sheets.

And God,
When you look at me like that—
Like I’m the only thing that matters—
I’m helpless,
Lost in the gravity between us,
Pulled into the orbit of your touch,
Again and again.