Years’ worth in our days swirl in our thoughts of lovely hands clasped in ours with no resolve of ever letting go.

Though the fates and sanguine melancholy conspire to break the bonds nothing can keep this sight from being enthralled

shall he, happiness dancing waltz with the sea, ever forget?

The tempest-swept shore of unyielding grace remains true to the beacon, be it in the peaks or prairies; a promise,

no matter how trampled still blossoms without the acquiescence of seasons, be they winter or spring,

until the day a tombstone is offered and a coat rack for weariness to hang,

no smiles will eternally be wasted on a frown as is with fear will be on Pennywise the clown.

We are here, and we are now until we become yesterday, our hearts unbowed

And yet, long after light has left times eyes, and last fogging breath has been drawn,

the echoes resound, love, unyielding, seared into the skin of eternity.

Strands of flesh, a promise, binding lives that once strobed like starlight, the universe chants with shared joys, sorrows, and dreams.

For every stumble, every fracture, every tear that pelted our time, we rise, reforged in the fires of devotion’s heat.

Love is no fleeting gale but the tide that shapes continents, despite the world’s cruel dissonance, harmony prevails.

And when the final curtain falls on this fleeting stage, let it be known we did not merely survive but thrived, kindled.

Sometimes, life comes down to the things left unsaid; the choices we once couldn’t make or the words we were too afraid to say. I’ve thought about this deeply, especially with the echoes of my last relationship, where love became something shared with my daughter too. Watching them together stirred something new in me, something that felt both tender and weighted, knowing how close we all were and the emotions that had layered over time.

In love and life, I’ve realized, timing is as much an enemy as it is a friend. There are relationships you hold in your heart long after they’re gone, because in some way, they’re stitched into who you are. Letting go, I learned, doesn’t mean forgetting. It means honoring what it gave you, allowing yourself to grow around the loss and the memories alike. And part of that growth, for me, has been opening up to my daughter, showing her the sides of love that endure; friendship, loyalty, and the courage to embrace life’s impermanence without resentment.

There’s a quiet strength in moving forward, I think, but it also means having the patience to live with what’s unresolved. Sometimes, the most meaningful connections leave us with loose ends. In those gaps between what we once shared and what remains, I try to find peace; not just for myself, but for the kind of man, father, and friend I want to be. And that, I’ve learned, might be the truest mark of love.

—

In the meadows of my daughter’s laughter,
she found a friend, a mentor, a guide;
a woman who spoke to the world as if every leaf and feather
carried a secret worth holding close.

I’d watch them both, fingers intertwined,
two souls bound in wonder,
eyes wide with the shared love of nature’s beauty.

They made gifts from paper and glue,
sketched treasures and braided wishes into chest full of memories,
as if they, together, could grow a world all their own.

She became more than love,
more than a hand to hold beside mine;
she was someone I’d have proudly called partner;
shoulder to shoulder, raising my daughter with honor.

But that world we dreamt, its warmth and wild simplicity,
is gone now, fading like the sunset that lit their sky.
I look at my daughter, and see traces of her curiosity,
the way they shared secrets I will miss greatly.

It is the saddest truth I carry;
to love what’s gone, and to walk forward in its dissolve.
Yet, for the bond they wove so carefully, so tenderly,
I am forever grateful, and forever grieving.

— Sincerely, Boris

The experience of growing up always in the grip of fleeting desires has shaped how I approach relationships, even now as a single father in my forties. I’ve often found myself captivated by the allure of infatuation, swept away by the idealized image of another person. This pattern, though intoxicating, has taught me much about the nature of desire and the way it distorts reality.

I’ve come to see that these intense feelings; what I once thought was love; are often projections of my own unmet needs or desires onto another person. These crushes, which often felt overwhelming, were more about the fantasy I created than the reality of the person in front of me. I’ve learned that this yearning is less about genuine connection and more about the emotional highs I sought to escape from my own inner discomforts or unfulfilled longings.

With time, I’ve begun to understand the importance of self-awareness in these moments. What feels like love can sometimes be a fixation on an idealized version of someone, built from the fragments of my own hopes and unresolved emotions. True connection, I’ve realized, must be grounded in seeing the other person as they are, not as a reflection of what I want them to be.

In this journey, I’ve learned to let go of the compulsive need to chase after those fleeting feelings and instead nurture a deeper, more balanced emotional availability. It is about cultivating a sense of wholeness within myself, so that I no longer need another person to fill a void or complete me. This shift has been liberating, though it requires constant reflection and conscious effort. The path forward is not about denying desire but understanding its true source and embracing relationships that allow for growth, mutual respect, and authenticity.
—

Your name constant, lingering in my mind;
All the thoughts of you, I cannot escape;
They echo through time,
where a lonely silence once found its place.

In your eyes, I can I see beyond the universe;
its vastness reflected in their cosmic depths,
where time slows down, remains suspended,
revealing truths I hadn’t thought to seek.

And in your touch, oh, how it lingers;
a quiet fire that burns without need for flame.
It consumes all of me, drawing me closer to you,
where distance stretches, one galaxy to another;
Until I am lost in the warmth of your being.

You are the axis on which my thoughts turn,
the light that bends the edges of my soul.
Yet I know this;
to love you is not to possess,
but to admire the art in simply knowing
you exist, a masterpiece worth holding onto.

You are the one question I cannot answer,
a riddle unraveling in my mind, everyday.

— Sincerely, Boris

“The blood of the covenant
Is thicker than the water of the womb”

Whenever I die
This shall be etched on my tomb.
For family we have,
Should be family we choose.