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Silent smiles, downward winks—
a pulse,
a rush of something unnamed.
A glimpse of love,
the hush of peace,
the soft sunrise of hope.

Little triumphs shimmer
within this golden cage—
a secret handshake,
a quiet nod of assurance.

Tiny joys, quiet victories,
rippling through my chest,
nourishing the fragile thread of hope.
I gather them—
my moments,
my space,
my sacred souvenirs
from the life that almost was.

A life shaped before I knew
how to shape one for myself.