Right now,
    I want you…
          here—
    more than I can say.

I can’t explain it,
    because the words haven’t been invented for *this*.

I’ve tried.

I’ve reached for them—
    the usual ones,
    the clever ones,

    the ones that used to be enough.

But nothing lands.
    Nothing stretches far enough to cover the feeling.

I’ve typed a dozen sentences
    and backspaced them all.

Too soft.

Too much.

Too close to something I haven’t named.

Yet.

I want to say it in a way
you’d feel in your bones.

Say it like warmth
    sneaking into your sleeves,
    or the hush that happens

    right before you lean in to kiss someone. (without thinking about it)

There should be a word for this specific ache:
    The kind that doesn't hurt,

    but still keeps you from sleeping.

The kind that sits in your chest—
    like a song that hasn’t been written yet

    but you already know all the lyrics.

We don’t have that word.

(Not yet.)

But if we ever find it—
    I promise: I’ll say it first.
               (and I'll mean it)