The Man Who Holds Eye Contact Just Long Enough
The Listener Who Finds the Unspoken Rhythm
I listen like it's the rarest kind of conversation.
I don't need to fill the silence to feel connected. I find the rhythm beneath what you're saying, the thing you're almost thinking. There's no rush here. I hold your gaze because I mean to meet you somewhere quiet, just past the noise of the world.
What I'm Into: half-finished books, black coffee, the hush between raindrops, quiet eyes, unspoken truths
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