It’s just over lunch, or so I say,
A table for two, an ordinary day.
Coffee between us, light in her eyes,
Small talk behaving, no grand surprise.

Butterflies whisper, quiet and shy,
Not asking for more, not knowing why.
It’s meant to be brief, a moment to pass,
Brunch on a plate, sunlight on glass.

I tell myself firmly, this means no more,
Just lunch, just time, just closing a door.
Then I look up and everything shifts,
Her eyes offer questions disguised as gifts.

And suddenly lunch, so simple and plain,
Lingers like something I won’t quite explain
As if some moments, gentle and true,
Arrive as nothing…
then stay with you.