Gravity Of Two Poem by Faith Cecelia Story

There was a gravity between them—
not gentle, not polite—
but fierce as a tide that refuses the shore.
It pulled them closer than reason,
closer than safety.

When love lived softly between them,
it was honey on warm bread,
laughter drifting through rooms at dusk,
two shadows folding into one quiet home.
In those hours
the world felt forgiven.

But love with them
had teeth.

Both knew the art of the pull—
the careful word,
the withheld silence,
the subtle bending of truth
like branches toward the sun.
Each could wound,
each could heal.

And so their bond grew heavy—
a cathedral built from tenderness
and trembling faults.

For when their love rose,
it was heaven—
a sky wide enough for two souls to breathe.

But when it cracked,
when storms found their way in,
the deeper the love beneath it,
the heavier the fall.

Yet still they remained,
two hearts learning the same truth:

That the sweetest home
is not the absence of darkness,
but two flames
choosing to burn
in the same night.