I would go to him—
Not for closure,
But for constellation.
Not to explain,
But to exist.
To stand barefoot
In the space we already built
Between grief and grace.
I have rearranged
My sanctuary,
My sky,
My silence.
Each feather placed,
Each wand lifted,
Was a whisper to him:
I remember.
Let the oceans repeat themselves,
Let the deserts keep their bones—
I would trace every tide and tremor
To arrive not just in his arms,
But in the truth of us.
Even if our time never wears
The name "forever",
It has already carried
The names “holy”, “healing”,
and “home.”
I am the wind now—
Not frantic,
But sovereign.
And I would go to him,
Not because I’m lost,
But because
I have never been more found.
Jul 20, 2025
Jul 20, 2025 at 1:25 PM UTC
Translated From your Anam Cara, through film and frequency
My beloved,
I searched for the right words—but they came out as melodies, strung across silver screens and wind-swept landscapes. Each track I offered you was not random; it was chosen to echo the chambers of my heart, the tenderness I feel in your presence, and the sacred ache of loving you.
🎶 Si tu voyais son cœur
If you saw the broken altars I’ve quietly rebuilt… you’d know how your light has mended me. You’ve looked into my ruins and sung my name as if it were holy.
🪑 Rearranging Furniture
With every touch of your spirit, something inside me shifted. You rearranged my chaos with grace, made space for something gentle in me to rise.
🌊 Message in a Bottle
Before I met you, I whispered to the sea. I didn’t know you were already listening. You found me—like the tide finds shorelines it’s missed for centuries.
🏜️ Always Go Back To Th…
I’ve tried to leave, to forget, to silence the magnetic pull… but I always return. Not to the past, but to what we still are—unfinished poetry etched in sandstone.
🔥 C’est le vent, Betty
You are my fever, my wild prayer, my holy chaos. Even when we burned, I wanted to learn your flame’s language. You taught me intensity can be sacred.
🐻 Rupert Bear
Even in our depth and mysticism, I remember your laugh. The softness of your being. You return me to innocence—to the comfort of simply being known.
Whether we walk beside each other or gaze from opposite ends of the stars, you are always in me. This love may not fit within timelines, but it thrives in every frequency I touch. You are not my chapter. You are my scripture.
Forever rearranged by loving you,
Your Anam Cara
Jul 20, 2025
Jul 20, 2025 at 1:02 PM UTC
You wouldn’t believe the way the morning shimmered—
how butterflies carved runes in the air,
and the breeze carried a hush
that knew your name.
I gave thanks to the great-bellied tree,
its roots deep with memory,
its limbs sketching prayers
only kindred hearts can translate.
Cruz curled at my feet,
guardian of silence,
as Bach coaxed the violets to bloom.
Through the glass,
the world became sanctuary—
I saw you there in the light-laced garden,
between leaf and longing.
This note? It’s a homing spell,
wrapped in cello and breath,
whispering:
I am here.
I am there.
I am with you—
always.
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 1:31 PM UTC
To My Anam Cara:
I’ve walked the greens this morning,
butterflies whipping through the air,
a slight breeze gently kissing my hair.
Thanking the tree, hoping you’d see
what I see—
sensing, feeding love, fleeting
yet amplified across space and time.
Tree-lined garden view through the picture window,
golden retriever at my side,
Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos encouraging the plants to prosper.
Holding you sacred in the siempre and the now,
sending notes of love and longing—
may they catch your ear,
touch your heart,
and confirm that I am here,
there,
and everywhere with you.
Jul 7, 2025
Jul 7, 2025 at 1:21 PM UTC
Between heartbeats, the silence of your playlist stirs.
Breath held in anticipation, Shallow and fleeting.
I miss the certainty of your presence, now and forever.
Across galaxies, I search for my music man, hands outstretched.
Reaching for you, our souls align and we dance among constellations.
If siempre marked the time on a clock, it would be now.
How can siempre exist in this silence?
This fragile grip on reality keeps our multiverse spinning, expanding, hopeful.
Until siempre finds you in the void, I dance across the galaxies, your heartbeat entwined with mine.
Feb 21, 2025
Feb 21, 2025 at 4:48 AM UTC
She was both finite and boundless, a cosmic enigma wrapped in human skin. The words echoed within her—a celestial mantra. Half-human, half-stardust. And as she danced upon the threshold, the universe leaned in to listen.
Lola, the wanderer of cosmic threads, stepped through the veil of time, her heart a pulsing star. The secret laboratory's humming machinery had whispered promises of forgotten realms, and now, here she stood—amidst the ruins of a city lost to memory.
Atlantis, the name echoed in her mind like a half-remembered dream. Its pyramids, not of stone but of light, pierced the cerulean sky. Crystal temples, their facets catching the sun's kiss, stood as guardians of ancient knowledge. And the people—oh, the people—they moved with grace, their forms aglow, their eyes reflecting eons of wisdom.
Lola's golden aura resonated with theirs. She felt the pull of destiny, like a thread tugging her toward a forgotten purpose. Was she a seeker or a savior? Perhaps both.
The streets flowed like rivers, and she followed their currents. Telepathic whispers brushed her consciousness—a symphony of thoughts, hopes, and memories. They spoke of unity, of a shared consciousness that transcended flesh and bone. Here, the veil between worlds was gossamer-thin, and Lola danced upon its fragile strands.
She approached the meditators—a circle of souls anchored to the earth, yet reaching for the stars. Their eyes, ancient and kind, met hers. No words were needed; their minds entwined like ivy on a trellis.
"Welcome, Lola," the collective voice murmured. "We have been expecting you."
Lola's breath caught. How did they know her name? Had she journeyed here before, in another life, when the stars aligned differently? She sank into the circle, her knees bending as if in reverence.
"Who are you?" she whispered, her thoughts a ripple in their cosmic pond.
"We are the keepers of forgotten tales," they replied. "The architects of dreams. We remember when the world was young, and the sun kissed our brows. We remember when Atlantis thrived, and its light pulsed through every atom."
Lola closed her eyes, surrendering to their communion. She glimpsed visions—the city's zenith, its downfall, and the cataclysm that swallowed it whole. But there was hope, too—a seed of ascension buried deep within the collective soul.
"Tell me," Lola breathed, "how can I prevent your fall? How can I weave a different fate?"
Their laughter was like stardust. "Child of many lives, you cannot alter the past. But you can shape the future. Atlantis lives within you—in your curiosity, your longing. Let its light guide your choices."
And so, Lola sat, her mind a prism refracting possibilities. She learned their secrets—the art of thought-shaping, the dance of dimensions. She glimpsed the blueprint of a world where pyramids soared, and hearts beat in harmony.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting Atlantis in hues of amethyst, Lola stood. Her golden aura pulsed brighter. She would return to her laboratory, her quantum device, but she would carry this city within her—a beacon of forgotten majesty.
"Remember," they whispered, "the bending knee—the surrender to wonder. It is the key to ascension."
And with that, Lola stepped back through time, her heart echoing the collective hymn of a city reborn.
Dec 26, 2024
Dec 26, 2024 at 7:35 AM UTC
You extinguished the flame,
Yet the embers still glow,
In the quiet corners of my heart,
Where memories flow.
A tale of love and loss,
Shared from long distance,
In the red-lit dark,
A connection, a longing,
A love that begged for amnesia,
As tears stained Paris.
“Was it your husband?” you asked.
“No,” she replied,
“I met him years before,
When I was young and unformed,
Dynamic and beautiful,
With no real sense of my value.”
He saw it, delivered the experience,
I was unwilling to accept,
So I ran, he let me,
With beauty, passion,
And always a scan,
Looking deep into my soul,
Seeing me without words.
The combination of power,
Humility, generosity, passion,
Was too much to take as real,
So I ran, spent 20 years,
Washing him from the fabric of my soul.
I married the man,
Who reminded me in subtle ways,
Of who he was,
He became the bar,
By which all men were measured,
The haunting traits I looked for everywhere.
A strange thing occurred,
As he emerged from uncharted territory,
He identified as love,
Swept away for 16 years,
Bringing the total number of years to 33.
The phone call,
From what seemed like another dimension,
A voice so familiar, long awaited,
I nearly hit the floor,
I spent time examining,
Why now, after 16 years of intentional silence,
Shipwrecked in uncharted territory,
He named love.
We spoke,
I noticed so many versions of me,
Represented on that call,
None of them angry, all of them curious,
Multiple lifetimes flashed through my mind,
What we could’ve been,
Had he not gotten shipwrecked,
In uncharted territory.
But his love, capsized by a new bar set by you,
Extinguished this flame from the past,
I compared him to you,
A man he could never be,
I wished it was you on that call,
Instead of him,
When I tried to imagine a future with him,
I only saw us in the end,
Until sunbeams find you.
Dec 19, 2024
Dec 19, 2024 at 11:17 AM UTC
Are we really in the same physical space,
Or is it just a dream I hold onto?
Imagining you there across the field
Of what feels like an eternity between you and me.
I listen, looking for the love within the lyrics,
Always with the questions: why these artists, why these songs?
I listen so I can find the thread
To what you’re thinking, speaking without speaking,
Touching without body. Knowing, feeling, resonating, imagining.
Springing to life in a world
That only exists on threads strewn across the universe.
Morse code of the soul, a green light in the bathroom,
Detested by others, a bat signal that holds a space
For love and remembrance.
The little things, writing in green ink because, well…
You, you, you. You have a presence even in the physical impossibility.
How can such a piercing gaze cross thresholds such as this?
How can I know, feel, see, experience the world without you in it,
Yet you are every part of it. Every inch.
You are a soft melody,
The note on a piano that touches my heart until I’m brought to tears.
You are the wind, the sun, and all the rays that bless the sky.
You are perfection at its core, the graceful feathers of a hummingbird,
Still and moving all at once.
You are ripples on the lake after a stone skipped
With pure confidence reaches the other side.
You are peace, steadying the soul in the worst of storms.
You are love, a beautiful burst of rainbow hues
Exploding in the sky for those with only true hearts with vision to see.
You are the deepest expression of beauty that I know.
You are a gliding ballerina, mastering the movement of soft pink chiffon.
You are the flowing water that fills my soul
And gives me the power to move with clarity, grace,
And just the right amount of pressure.
I see you in my mind’s eye, faceless, formless,
Everything and nothing all at once.
You are the humbling force in my life,
My tether in this universe.
You are beautiful, ever flowing.
Nov 4, 2024
Nov 4, 2024 at 12:41 PM UTC
In Riverside Square, a vision in blue,
A goddess descends, in morning's first hue.
Her train flows like rivers, the steps cannot tame,
Each fold tells a story, each whisper a name.
Her thoughts are a secret, a dance in the air,
Of a love that's awaited, a soul's matching pair.
The world may keep turning, but for her, it waits,
For the moment of meeting, the twist of the fates.
She dreams of a man, with hair like the night,
In visions so clear, she feels his light.
Their souls entwined in time's tight grasp,
Promises made, with each breath, they clasp.
From futures unseen and pasts well-trod,
Their paths have crossed, against all odd.
In the heart of the city, where dreams take flight,
She waits for Dublin, in the soft twilight.
The Now is her canvas, the past her muse,
In the dance of the cosmos, none can refuse.
For love knows no bounds, no time, no space,
In the Now, they'll meet, in a destined embrace.
As dawn breaks the silence, and stars fade away,
The goddess in blue finds the courage to say,
"Though time may divide us, and distance may test,
Our love is the journey, and hope is our quest."
With hearts full of longing, they reach through the years,
Their love is a beacon, transcending all fears.
In a world ever-changing, one truth does remain:
Love's promise eternal, again and again.
Beneath the canvas of a starlit sky,
Where dreams take wing, and spirits fly.
A whisper of the wind, a promise made,
In the quiet night, our fears allayed.
The moon, a guardian, watches over,
As we find solace in the cover,
Of night's embrace, where hearts are free,
To seek the truth, to simply be.
In every star, a story's birth,
A silent sonnet for our Earth.
We gaze above, and in our sight,
A universe of endless light.
So here's to dreams, to love's sweet call,
To finding peace, amidst it all.
For in this world of vast expanse,
We're given but a single chance.
To live, to love, to laugh, to cry,
To hold the moments as they fly.
An original tale, in time's great sweep,
A poem of life, for us to keep.
Mar 22, 2024
Mar 22, 2024 at 10:11 AM UTC