*The Small Little Things in Life* *By Nolal* I do not love the sun because it is bright— I love it because it touches the river like a fingertip tracing a lover’s spine. I love the hush between words, the breath before the kiss, the weight of a hand that says nothing, but stays. Oh, let me drown in ordinary things: the scent of rain on warm soil, a cup held with both hands, a bird singing for no one at all. What is grand is not always gold— sometimes it is the sound of your name spoken by someone who sees you. And in these small, little things, life writes its loudest poems.