PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

 I learned early

that love was a narrow doorway

you were supposed to walk through

straight, obedient,

eyes forward,

no wandering.

But then there was you—

not a doorway,

but a window I kept looking through

when no one was watching.

You laugh in colors

I was taught not to name.

You move like freedom

I wasn’t supposed to want.

And when you touched my arm that night,

just barely,

my soul startled

like a bird that realized

the cage was open.

I tell myself it’s nothing.

A phase.

A story that can stay unwritten

if I pray hard enough.

But in the quiet,

between the verses I recite

to keep myself “good,”

your name is the only hymn

my heart remembers

how to sing.