Just Friends?
He says we're just friends,
But if I don’t Talk for a single day,
He grows restless,
searching for my voice or my text.
When I rest my head upon his shoulder,
His hand finds my cheek, gentle and caring,
—As if protecting something precious.
When he takes my hand in his,
It feels like an unspoken promise,
—A quiet vow lingering between our fingers.
As we walk together, the world slows down,
And the destination seems far away,
As if time itself wears a crown.
—As if Universe itself conspires to keep us near.
He says we’re just friends,
But sometimes, it feels like more.
It feels like he loves me—not as a friend,
But as a man loves a woman, deeply, wholly.
Yet still, he says we’re just friends...
—Beloved
—And I wonder—does his heart whisper differently?
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