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Writer's pictureSam John

Qavah

Qavah

I fall into your emerald eyes…

And I smile.

I haven’t met you, yet but I see you.

Every part of you.

Clear as day.

And I wondered.

As I draped my fingers over your golden-brown skin.

Was it worth it?

The wait. The heartache. All the rejections.

And as I sat there… looking into your eyes at the end of a long day.

I saw it all. All of it. The train to NYC.

The metro ride where I saw you…

In the midst of overthinking my conversation with my barista.

Wait. That’s her. I know it.

And everything faded away.

The aches. The sorrow. The grief.

All of it… lifted.

In a moment.

And I sit here, with your hand in mine, and with one kiss, I wonder.

Yes. Yes, it was. A million times, yes. At least.



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