How can people be a beach person when snowfall exists?
You could be sipping something warm with a mountain view that looks illegal…
instead you picked sweat, sunburn, and sand in your shoes.
I think my heart beats hardest for quiet romance—
the little things that speak the loudest.
A gentle reminder to eat,
a memory held of something I once said,
a calm presence when the world feels loud.
Not grand gestures, just soft constants—
proof that you’re there, and I’m held.