I Want To See You

I Want To See You
I want to know you
in the smallest ways
before want becomes hunger
before touch learns its courage.
I want your voice to settle in me,
soft and familiar,
like something I’ve always carried.

I want to feel you arrive
before I see you
to recognize you in the shift of the room,
in the way the air changes
when you’re almost near.

I want to gather you in fragments:
the warmth you leave behind,
your scent clinging gently
to spaces you’ve just abandoned
the way your body speaks
even when you don’t.

I want to linger on the tender details
how your lips draw together,
then soften,
how they part just slightly
when I move closer,
when my presence brushes yours
and I kiss you
as if there is nowhere else to be.

And I want that private joy
the moment when the world fades,
when your breath finds mine,
when your voice lowers
and you whisper “more”