Yours

I am yours
not as something kept or claimed,
not bound by hands or marked by name,
but as the stars belong to sky,
still burning bright, still passing by
never asking where to lie.

The way the moon belongs to tides,
never touching what it guides,
pulling oceans in their sleep
undeniable force that needn’t speak.

How morn belongs to birds that sing
in early light on fragile wings.
There for a moment, then moving on
like fleeting notes at break of dawn. 

I belong to you like fire belongs to heat,
like shadows falling at your feet,
like every word belongs to breath
that gives it life, that gives it depth.

Not because I’m owned or small,
nor because I fear the fall,
but something in me understands
the way my heart rests in your hands.

If I am yours, then let it be
not possession, but gravity.
Not asked for.
Not chosen.
Just forever true. 

That quiet pull, that leads to you.