The Silence Between Heartbeats

There is a hush the world ignores,

a space too small for breath or regret—

between the thump of what was felt

and the echo of what’s left unsaid.

I met you there.

Not in the thunder of our love,

but in the stillness

that lived between

our almosts.

It is where your eyes paused

before looking away,

where my fingers trembled

just shy of yours—

not out of fear,

but out of knowing.

We do not break in the storm,

but in the calm

that follows it.

Where nothing shouts,

but everything listens.

I have learned to live

in that quiet place—

where time softens,

where memories linger

like dew on the lip of morning,

too brief, too bright, too gone.

If love is a song,

then let me be the rest note,

the breath before the crescendo,

the silence between heartbeats—

where we were

and were not

at once.