When your gaze found mine, the whole world swayed, As if the earth had missed a hidden beat; The sunlight suddenly grew unafraid, Then melted like warm gold around my feet. I tried to look away, but something stayed, A trembling little universe in you; My eyes became two doors I could not close, And every secret seemed to wander through. I felt my cheeks turn roses in the rain, A sudden fire underneath my skin; The stars began to whisper my sweet shame, While little suns kept blooming from within. Your eyes were not just eyes, they were a place, A strange blue room where gravity was gone; I wandered through the silence of your gaze And somehow lost the person I was on. My heartbeat stumbled, then forgot its name, It ran barefoot through corridors of light; I blushed as though the moon had called me beautiful, Then hid my face from heaven's watching sight. The trees leaned closer, jealous of the view, The flowers opened wider just to see; Even the wind became unusually shy, As thoug...
It wasn’t meant to last,
That’s what we said at the start,
like two travelers sharing a fire
just to warm the night,
never planning the morning.
We spoke in temporary words,
in almosts and maybes,
in careful laughter that never leaned too far
into a promise.
We told ourselves
This was just a passing season.
But love has its own language,
one that does not ask permission.
It grew quietly,
in the pauses between sentences,
in the way your name
became the first thought of my day
and the last place my mind rested at night.
It lived in small things:
fingers brushing without reason,
silence that felt full instead of empty,
eyes that lingered
just a moment too long to be nothing.
We tried to measure it,
to keep it within the lines we drew,
But love does not follow rules
written by fear.
It spills,
it stretches,
It stays.
What was meant to be brief
learned how to breathe,
How to root itself
in the spaces we left unguarded.
And suddenly,
Goodbye felt heavier than it should,
like something unfinished,
like a story that refused
to end where we placed the final page.
Because love is not always planned,
not always welcome,
not always easy.
But love is love,
and sometimes,
even when it isn’t meant to last,
It does.
© 2026 Gloria Penelope
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