24. “For the first time, it feels like this…”

“For the first time, it feels like this…”

For the first time, something feels different…
That café,
that table, that mellow music,
and a warm clay cup
whose rising steam carried both of us away…

If that café hadn’t existed,
there would’ve been no coffee, no clay cup,
no aroma drifting in the air,
and no….
soft silence
in which our words slowly began to seep through…

Perhaps the scene would have been something else…
there would’ve been no paper, no pen,
with which something was being written,
& which stirred something deep inside…

She wouldn’t have been there waiting for me,
nor her, story woven from her own dreams…
Neither she nor I would be
who she introduced me to that day…

Had she not been there,
there would be no memories,
no blog,
& perhaps I would’ve lost myself somewhere…

Someone else,
somewhere else…
but the “me” I am today
would never have existed….

For the first time, it feels like…
the world can change in a single moment…
one cup of coffee,
one quiet corner,
& that first smile blooming softly
in the mind and on lips
that had forgotten how…

Being with her felt like
the musk deer discovering
its own fragrant trail…
our hands warming around cups of coffee,
our flavors mingling,
speaking without speaking,
& gathering of each moment like treasure.

She was right there…
warmer than the coffee itself,
as tender as the steam from the clay cup,
and in her laughter
lived a melody without words…

With her beside me,
even that café table felt special…
as if it had been waiting only for us,
where I was “me,” and she was “her”…

She spoke, I listened;
I went quiet, she understood;
in that quiet
it felt as though she read my eyes
& was speaking back to my heart…

Being with her wasn’t just a few moments…
they were breaths we had saved,
which still blend today
with the fragrance of that clay cup.

She, I, that café,
& the aroma of coffee rising between us…
hours of conversation,
sometimes in words, sometimes in glances,
& dreams that quietly merging into one…

Her laughter, like soft moonlight,
my little sulks and her gentle coaxing…
that was our world…

Time slipped away in our conversations,
and without knowing,
the sweetness of her voice
brushed my ears like a soft song…

The coffee finished, but the words didn’t;
the clay cup emptied, but our feelings kept flowing;
& without realizing it,
our existence for each other
became the purpose of our lives…

She, I, and that café of stolen moments
still meet today… in someone, somewhere…
because those conversations held
more than words…
they held an unspoken story of hers and mine,
unfinished for ages,
finally finding a way to complete itself…

She paused for a moment,
stopped speaking,
& simply looked at me…
asking nothing, saying nothing,
just losing herself in my eyes…

My eyes… calm answers
to all her silent questions,
& she…was searching for herself
in the stillness of my gaze,
where her own reflection lived…

In that moment, time stopped.
The coffee grew cold,
but the warmth of her gaze
still glows quietly inside me…

She said nothing, yet she said,
“I live in you…
I’ve stopped here,
in the little window of your eyes…”

In that single lost glance,
there was so much…
that day,
a story wrote itself…

She was lost…
in my eyes….
silent, deep, forgetting herself,
staring as if the world had frozen,
& then I realized…

I smiled… soft, slow,
like the wind brushing the cheek,
& in that gentle smile,
without a word,
I brought her back to herself…

She startled a little,
returned to awareness…too late, though,
for her cheeks had already turned
pink with shy warmth…

That helpless attempt to look away,
& my quiet smile holding the moment…
as if a wordless poem
flowed between two hearts…

For the first time, it feels like
everything was decided in that one instant…

In that moment,
we said nothing special…
but her shy glance, my soft smile…
that was our first unspoken “yes.”…..

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