My beloved,
Take from me, if you must,
that strange rekindling—
that accidental flame of friendship
which, after twenty silent years,
rose again as though no winter
had ever lain between us.
Take from me the knowledge
of what was lost before we knew its name.
Take even the sorrow
that what we felt was not illusion,
but truth arriving too late;
a truth both hearts may have known,
though neither life nor time
would grant it shelter.
Take even that sacred madness
where thought seemed freed from flesh,
where distance was no distance,
but only another veil the soul could lift;
where you and I existed somewhere beyond the world,
untouched by time, unwritten by fate,
nearer than breath, though parted by life.
Take from me the sudden pause
at the summit of the spiral stair,
that moment turning upon itself
like fate remembering its own design.
Take the glance—
you, draped in midnight blue,
your eyes rising from the open book,
and with them, the world I thought I knew.
Take the smile that could not speak,
yet confessed more than speech could bear.
Take all these things.
But never take away
that infinitesimal glimpse—
that brief radiance beyond reason—
when the whole of reality seemed to tremble,
and I knew, with a faith deeper than sorrow,
that what cannot be fulfilled in this world
is not lost beyond the reach of eternity.
May 24
May 24, 2026 at 6:59 AM UTC
My beloved,
Take from me, if you must,
that strange rekindling—
that accidental flame of friendship
which, after twenty silent years,
rose again as though no winter
had ever lain between us.
Take from me the knowledge
of what was lost before we knew its name.
Take even the sorrow
that what we felt was not illusion,
but truth arriving too late;
a truth both hearts may have known,
though neither life nor time
would grant it shelter.
Take even that sacred madness
where thought seemed freed from flesh,
where distance was no distance,
but only another veil the soul could lift;
where you and I existed somewhere beyond the world,
untouched by time, unwritten by fate,
nearer than breath, though parted by life.
Take from me the sudden pause
at the summit of the spiral stair,
that moment turning upon itself
like fate remembering its own design.
Take the glance—
you, draped in midnight blue,
your eyes rising from the open book,
and with them, the world I thought I knew.
Take the smile that could not speak,
yet confessed more than speech could bear.
Take all these things.
But never take away
that infinitesimal glimpse—
that brief radiance beyond reason—
when the whole of reality seemed to tremble,
and I knew, with a faith deeper than sorrow,
that what cannot be fulfilled in this world
is not lost beyond the reach of eternity.