The Body Remembers

Isn’t it both distressing and magical 

how much the body remembers?

It sometimes feels like there is a gaping hole,  

on my side.

It’s an absence that never quite leaves.

Not sharp enough to break me. 

Nothing fatal, no. 

Just a low, steady hum of something once held too tightly.

A heart, long misplaced, learning to exist outside its cage.

But then, there are the other moments.

When a certain comfort returns, and the heart finds its way back home.

It warms, it stretches, and spreads so far. 

You feel the brightness radiate from within. 

And in that warmth, I remember,  there’s something that’s worth 

every 

single 

second 

of the wait.