That day was painful, more painful than the night before,
but liberating.
I used the smoke, three words, the cross,
to make a ritual used to cleanse the air,
to slide my mind into a trance.
The week that followed brought the numbing, dullness,
A revelation of the other side of truth.

It was ten days before I purged her from my heart,
But only hours before my thoughts came back to her,
Again and one more time.

It helped that we were distanced,
Space forced by the intensity of feelings,
The lull to balance the intensity of all.

Why did she write me back? Is it is game? Or is it what I think it is?
That subtle poem that she wrote,
Brought back emotions that I thought I had renounced.
I sense her transformation, her journey has just started,
The pride I feel for being part of it makes me appreciate it all,
painful and enthralling all in one.

I know it: she tried it too, but she could not avoid
The thoughts of me returning to her dreams again,
She's half strong woman, half a dreamer,
half kitten and the other roaring tigress.
Yet she refuses to acknowledge that that she cannot escape.
It is not me she is afraid to take, it's what's in her.
And she loves me, as I loved her.