You didn't ask to stay .
You came with the dusk,
barefoot,
a breath in the humid air.

Soft as old strings
plucked without urgency,
you settled into the silence
between one thought and the next.

I watched you
the way light watches
the edge of a leaf,
without touching.

Your name never needed saying.
It hung there,
already known,
like the scent of something blooming
just out of sight.

And when you turned,
not away,
but inward,
as magnolias do.

I understood
some things are meant
to be waited for
without asking
why they left.