i was still human

they said
i was still human,
once,
but something in me
had begun to turn

not away —
but toward

as if the dark itself
had loosened its hold,
and light,
patient as breath,
had found the edges of my skin,
and was peeling them back,
slowly

you didn’t arrive.
you never did.
you were already there.

in the warmth just beneath the surface,
in the slow rhythm of pulse and bone,
in that quiet space where shadows
learn to soften

we learned its touch,
the shape
its silence held

not the dark —
but what waits beyond it,
in emgergence,
falling

we learned the shape of stillness.
we learned the weight of breath shared.
we learned — there would be warmth

then we turned,
together

and the cave
was no longer a boundary,
but a threshold.

gold entered first —
resting along your shoulder,
tracing the outline of your neck,
your vein pulsing in the glow

blue followed quickly,
gathering low,
around us,
cool against skin,
holding what we did not need to name,
holding what we kept within

the ground began to hum —
not loud,
but deep,

a soft unfolding of sound
that makes stone and marrow weep

until only the beat of a heart
remained
beneath.

towards you I moved,
not reaching —
just yielding

and something in us
began to give

not taken, not claimed —
but becoming

and the air leaned in
to hear us both

your breath along my collarbone,
mine settling into yours,

pulse finding pulse,
flesh remembering
what it was shaped for,

not two,
not one —

then something formed
in the space between,

as if we had always been
a question

and this —
this quiet merging of warmth and light —
was the answer
taking shape

gold resting on us both now,
blue holding the edges of the world,

and the shadows behind us
no longer binding,
only fading,
old.

we are still here —
but not as we were

something in us
opened wide

something in us
took its form.

and in the slow rhythm
of breath and bone,

we are still
one

becoming

ㅤ

---

For those who choose to go a little deeper
paid subscribers get
access to a Guided Noticing,
and occasional paid-only pieces,

Everything I publish publicly stays public.

This is about making space for slower work, and for people who want to stay close to how it’s made.

If you’ve been hovering, this is a good moment to step in.

I’m always open to thoughtful writing collaborations.

Other prose and poems from me.

The Noise That Forgot Silence - Ep 4

Still, Nothing

Warmth, still

What Fear Whispered Before

Another night, later.

still close enough

Between the two of us

Idle

One Step Is Enough

The Sun Said Hop

She Arrives in the Pause

Not All Love Is Meant To Be Found.

🌈 When Rainbows Speak Back

Nothing truly leaves — it just changes how it stays.

If something moved in you — a silence that whispered — I’d love to hear it below, or in my DM’s.

---

---

All artwork courtesy of NDjin Gallery