less than a year together he’s first to wake up
early on a cold morning, blankets bunched on her side
the house hums a low, steady tune.
the world is calm enough to notice something
small like the warm pocket of air pulsing
between them. it feels to him like a mercy
like a confirmation of what, he won’t be sure until
years later, looking back, he inches closer,
not touching her, allowing that space to swell—
the idea of some future happiness, maybe,