Where Three Hearts Meet

“You were a language before I arrived,

A rhythm learned in glances,

In the way your laughter overlapped

Like waves that already knew the shore.

I stood at the edge at first,

barefoot in the possibility of you.

And then

You turned, both of you,

Not as halves but as something whole

With space enough to open.

Loving you is not division.

It is not halves or fractions or borrowed time.

It is an expansion

A third note that doesn’t disrupt the chord

But deepens it.

I learn the constellations of your affection:

How your hand finds theirs in sleep,

How you both make room for mine

Without letting go of each other.

There is no erasing here,

Only layering

Soft, careful, real.

Some nights I wonder

If I am a visitor in your forever,

A beautiful detour.

But then you pull me closer,

Both of you and I feel it

Not temporary, but different.

Love like this doesn’t fit

Into easy metaphors.

It spills past the edges,

Refuses the neatness of singular devotion.

It is messy and luminous and brave.

I am not the missing piece.

You were never incomplete.

But somehow,

in the space between your hands

and the way you both reach for me,

I have found a place

that feels like belonging.

Three heartbeats,

not in competition but in chorus.”

- Me