If someone asks with insistence
About the story of our love,
We’ll whisper softly —
We longed… for just one meeting.
No names etched anywhere,
No photograph remains,
Just a feeling —
That quietly settled into our breath.
She never came,
Yet her footsteps echoed,
Behind every silence,
Her voice softly hid.
I never asked time to pause,
Still, each moment stood still —
Waiting
For a glimpse of her.
No promises made,
No tale left unfinished,
Yet every heartbeat
Felt complete with her memory.
What I couldn’t touch,
I lived it every day.
What I never truly lost,
Became the ache I carried.
People ask —
"When did you fall in love?"
I smiled faintly —
"When I saw her once… and said nothing."
She never spoke a word,
I stayed silent too,
But somehow,
Everything was said.
It was love —
But never found in pages.
It was love —
Yet never reached a conclusion.
Before every joy,
Her thought arrived.
After every tear,
Her name remained.
That one moment —
Where we were never really together,
Became
Our longest memory.
I never told anyone,
Yet somehow
My heart called only her.
She was never near,
Yet every conversation was hers.
And still,
The world believed I was alone.
If someone asks again
About the story of our love,
We’ll speak not with words,
But with a sigh… and say —
We longed for just one meeting.
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