That day…
felt as if time
had opened an old map,
and traced us
back into each other’s light.
You appeared —
and my soul
found its pulse again.
Within your silence,
I heard
A Thousand Forgotten Lullabies.
Your eyes still held
the same first dawn —
the same soft fire
that once warmed
the frost of my inner sky.
But this time,
our love wasn’t innocent.
It had weathered storms,
bled through absence,
and risen from ashes
as something eternal.
There were no questions now,
no restless answers —
just your presence,
which felt like
proof of my own existence.
Words grew shy,
for we had learned
to speak in silences.
When your head
rested on my chest,
my breath became
a prayer of fragrance
in your hair.
We no longer count time.
We live in moments —
small,
sacred,
stitched with the thread
of soul-touch.
No complaints
live on your lips now,
only that quiet smile
that forgives
every ache
the past ever gave us.
Your hand in mine
stills the universe.
Just that touch —
and the galaxies pause,
as if to listen
to our vow.
Love now
is no longer longing.
It is the calm,
deep, holy hush
in which we finally
hear God breathe.
I know this:
you will not leave again.
For now,
your soul
has melted into mine.
If you cry,
my eyes well.
If you laugh,
my chest sings.
We are no longer
lovers alone —
we are companions of the soul,
not bound by land
or time or death.
There is no “never again”
between us.
Only an “always,”
suspended softly
between breath and eternity.
And when the world asks,
"Who are you two?"
we shall smile
and answer —
“We are the ones
who were born
from each other’s prayers.”
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