Chairs still warm from vanished conversations

Like the forest is telling a bedtime story.

Your reflection added shade, texture, and breath.

This line drifted like smoke over a forgotten altar.

I feel like this image is holding its breath.

It doesn’t explain, and it doesn’t have to

The way you mirrored this back made me exhale.

It sounded like what the moon might say if it had words.

It reminded me of when I pretended everything was fine.

You placed wisdom in the palm of a sentence.

You turned a moment into a compass. #innerguide