Breath and Fire

Verse

You think I don’t feel it too —

the air that shifts when I see you.

I keep it quiet, play it slow,

pretend there’s nothing you should know.

Verse

But every glance, each fleeting breath,

draws me closer, breaks my rest.

I see the truth beneath your calm,

the tremor hiding in your palm.

Verse

You think I’m steady, hard to read,

that I’m immune to want or need.

You’re wrong — I’ve learned to stand so still,

to cage the fire, to bend my will.

Verse

Your silence hums — I hear it loud.

It pulls me in, it shakes my shroud.

I taste the word you never say;

it lingers, sweet, then fades away.

Verse

I tell myself I mustn’t break,

that one small move’s all it would take.

I know if I should step too near,

the rest would vanish, disappear.

Verse

You think control keeps me apart,

but it’s the weight inside my heart.

Each time you look, I lose the ground,

in you, the world stops spinning round.

Verse

I’ve felt the want — it’s sharp, it’s clean,

the ache that lives in things unseen.

You’re not the only one who waits;

I feel it too, I test the fates.

Verse

You said you’d meet me if I came.

I know you would — you said my name.

That sound still burns — I breathe it in,

and every thought begins again.

Verse

So I keep still, though I confess,

it’s getting harder to suppress.

For if I touched you, even once,

we’d lose ourselves, no second chance.

Outro

And what begins in breath and fire

would end in something far, far higher.

I hold it back — I always do —

but don’t believe I don’t want you.