A Space Called Closeness Poem by Parisha Shukla

Can I be a poem without being the poet—
watching you read me
on a bus ride home
and never say my name, ever?

Who said I need gifts?
Who said I need sweet messages at midnight?
Maybe my instincts were never built for asking it.
Maybe I was taught to notice instead.

Can I be admired—
without becoming an admirer once?

Can I be someone's person
without exhausting myself
trying to earn the title once?

Can I feel the warmth in you
without setting myself on fire once?

Can I be your poem one day—
Even without ever being with you?

Because every time I run,
we end up closer somehow—
In glances,
In silence.

Maybe, I was the only one afraid
when you left the place we first met.

You're inside the story
without being the ending.

Huh!
Truly,
A Man Who I Love.

And I am still here,
loving you quietly.