Letters from Xhale the magazine Words that breathe. Stories that Linger,

Of course, not tonight—
for tonight I dine in the company of essence,
a presence so delicate
she seems to have simply left the room,
yet somehow remains beside me,
caught in the corner of my eye,
nearly within reach,
nearly mine in a glance.

I can dream a dance with you.

I imagine the quiet space between us,
the gentle movement of your hands,
the warmth of your breath,
the way the world might disappear
if only for a moment
beneath the rhythm of our hearts.

Yet tonight,
I find myself troubled by glimpses of you.