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

Such a hesitant girl.

I build my wonder around your grace,
drawn into the quiet mystery of a heart
still reaching for the love it loved before.

And perhaps that is what unsettles me most—
knowing some part of you still sails
toward a shore where someone else once held you.
Yet selfishly, I hunger to be the wind
that turns your heart toward mine,
to find some hidden passage into your tenderness.

I know it is selfish, this hunger of mine,
wanting a love that may still belong to yesterday.
But I cannot silence the hope
that someday your yearning will loosen its hold,
and your hesitant spirit will wander close to me—
if not in love, then at least in thought.