Literature
The Calm After the Swarm
I didn’t know what quiet felt like
until your voice made a home in my chest.
Not the absence of sound—
but the kind of stillness that feels like safety.
Like a door closing gently
on everything that once hurt.
Thirty years on this earth,
and I never found a beekeeper
until now.
People called me complicated.
Too much.
Too loud inside.
But you,
you never flinched at the buzzing.
You walked into the swarm,
hands steady, heart open,
and the bees, somehow, listened.
You don’t just love me,
you steady me.
The sharp edges, the spirals,
the old ache I thought no one could see.
You look at all of it
and still choose to stay.
That’s the kind of love that rearranges a life.
I look at you and forget
what loneliness ever felt like.
With you, even silence has meaning.
If soulmates exist,
they speak in the language we’ve written-
in glances,
in breath,
in the hush between our laughter.
And if this is the beginning,
then let the years unfold like honey,
slow, golden
