When We Finally Meet

When we finally meet, I think the stars will exhale, not in drama, just relief. Like they've held their breath through almost, every missed moment we passed each other. I will not rush. I’ll stand there like someone who has been waiting with his whole chest open not for a fairytale, just for something honest. I won’t say perfect things. But I’ll mean them. And maybe you’ll smile like you already knew. Like your heart already knew me before your mind did. And in that silence, not the loud, bright kind, but the gentle, we build with our eyes, I’ll know: This time, you’re not passing through. This time, you’re home.