Sweet Nothings

You call me sweet little nothings and each breath turns them into somethings.

Your lips have the ability to melt harsh syllables into melodic symphonies and completely cover me when you speak.

I am not sure whether or not this is real, whether this is a mirage or if this is hope manifested

but that uncertainty will not stop me from holding onto and cherishing the resplendent moments in time I have your eyes in mine.