Pull

It’s not just gravity that keeps us close— 

there are softer laws, unwritten codes, 

pulling us in like playlists, 

like the way you just know 

that someone’s thinking of you 

right before they call.

We’re all little satellites 

swinging around something— 

a friend, a memory, a version of home 

you can’t find on any map 

but shows up in a smile,

 or a laugh that sounds like summer.

Sometimes it’s a city 

that keeps showing up in your dreams, 

or a stranger’s face that feels familiar, 

like déjà vu with a heartbeat. 

Like you’ve met before 

in another life or a shared silence.

We’re drawn not by logic, 

but by rhythm— 

by that click, that spark, 

the gravity of a connection 

you didn’t plan for 

but recognize immediately.

You orbit people, 

they orbit you. 

Not forever, not always— 

but long enough 

to shape your sky.