One second with you, a lifetime untold,
Hundreds of pages but the ink never folds.
Your slightest move, a flicker so small,
Paints a universe inside my walls.
I count your blinks like constellations,
Each one a new interpretation
"One second, infinite pages,
Your shadow writes on all my stages.
If time’s a thief, then let it steal,
But this story? No. It’s surreal."
Your breath’s a prologue, your pause a rhyme,
I’ve memorized the dust in your timeline.
The clock ticks once, but in my head,
It’s a library of things unsaid.
"Fold me into your narrative,
I’ll be the ink that’s adjective
A single dot, but oh, the weight,
Of every ‘what if’ we create."
One second… a thousand revisions…
Your silence? An entire edition.
