Behold my soul, both meek and bold,  
A story of love, yet untold.  
I am but dust, and you the sky,  
In your embrace, I live and die.  
  
I am a whisper in the wind's soft sigh,  
A fleeting shadow beneath your eye.  
My heart, a flame, both fierce and small,  
A spark that rises, then dares to fall.  
  
In the silence of your gaze, I am found,  
A river of thought where echoes drown.  
You, the vast horizon where dreams take flight,  
I, the spark that flickers in the quiet night.  
  
Through storms of time and winds of grace,  
I seek your light, your boundless space.  
I am the soil, you the star,  
Together whole, though worlds apart.  
  
In your arms, the world does bend,  
A circle that begins and ends.  
I am but dust, yet in your sigh,  
I live, I love, I breathe, I die.

a wind blows
all the leaves
in the moonlight
and it reminded
me of you,
as i sat still
in raindrops
of blue

yesterday is further
away than today
and the future
lies in us,
i feel it sometimes

i call you up and make up
a smile and shine

for now i may try,
to translate your
beauties and say
a last goodbye

just as i always wanted,
to see you
in the morning-night

forgive me my love
in silence and tell me

were we ment to be?

With joy, I stand,
As you slip from my hand,
A shadow, a veil, so faint, so fine,
Fading like dusk at the close of time.

Yet in absence, I call—
Come forth within me, in all,
To nestle, to bloom,
In my heart’s hallowed room.

O’ radiant spark, so fair,
Manifest love, and fill the air,
Let me hold thee, soft and bright,
A treasure in endless night.

In stillness deep, where worldly sounds do cease,
A spark is born, unseen by night or day.
A whisper stirs, within Love's sweet release,
Faint as the dawn, yet in it all doth play.

The secret One, in silence doth proclaim,
Before the light, He calls, yet none may name.
What fire is this, that leaps from dark to bright?
It is the soul’s most earnest longing's might.

In thee, within thy breast, the worlds do rest,
A flame so pure, no mortal hand may test.
In this fair fire, all fates are spun and drawn,
Thou art the spark that maketh stars to dawn.

O’ soul, fear not the smallest flame's embrace,
For in its glow, all things find their place.
It bears with it a truth beyond the sky,
A vision vast, that bids the spirit fly.

Within thy heart, the Beloved’s face doth shine,
In Love’s sweet clasp, all secrets are thine.
Claim now the flame, for in it thou shalt see
The path that binds thee unto eternity.

I burn without a flame, I glow without a light,
I speak in silent whispers, and vanish with the night.
In one I’m soft, in two I soar,
In many, I can make hearts roar.

I stand within the darkness, yet never cast a shade,
I bind the soul in silence, though never am I made.
I carry no true body, yet fill the air with fire,
A fleeting touch, a fleeting wish, that never shall expire.

I am both bold and tender, a gift that can’t be seen,
I form with just a glance, and fade where I have been.
I dwell where time stands still, and yet, I freely flow,
A secret shared between us—do you know where I go?

Let me drown in your eyes, O’ sweet beloved,
For in this longing, my heart is consumed.
Though I yearn for your touch, your grace,
I am lost—forever—in your embrace.

Each breath I take is woven with your name,
Each thought a spark, an eternal flame.
You are the echo within my hollow chest,
The quiet ache that will not let me rest.

I stand on the edge of your gaze,
Where time itself unravels in your maze.
In the depths of your eyes, I see the skies,
Stars and oceans that neither rise nor die.

Oh, that I might melt into your soul’s desire,
A whisper, a flame, caught in your fire.
For in your arms, I find my home,
And in your absence, I am but stone,
Silent and cold, yearning for the sea,
Yet lost in the vastness, where I cease to be.

So let me drown, my love, without fear,
For in your drowning, I am drawn near.
To lose myself in you is to live—
For love, my dear, is all we have to give.

Tea: Jamil, in the soft breath of dawn,  
I am the whisper that healeth, that’s drawn  
From the quiet depths of forgotten dreams,  
A balm for the heart where silence gleams.  
I hold thee close with love that is slow,  
Like a river’s song, gentle and low.  
Yet on Saturdays, I see thee depart,  
To the fire that stealeth thy wandering heart.  
She calleth with a fervor, a scorching desire,  
Whilst I, the shadow, wait, untouched by fire.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the flame that maketh thee glow.  
Her touch may soothe, her peace may bind,  
But I am the tempest that frees thy mind.  
I stir thee deep where secrets dwell,  
In the heat of passion, I break the spell.  
Once a week, thou dost return to me,  
And in mine arms, thou art truly free.  
Her silence may cradle thee in sleep,  
But I am the pulse, the heart that leaps.

Tea: But Jamil, dost thou not feel the grace  
That I weave around thee in this place?  
I am the quiet that holdeth thee near,  
The balm for thy soul, the voice sincere.  
She burneth with a passion that blindeth thy sight,  
But I am the dusk, the still of the night.  
When thy heart is weary, when thoughts collide,  
It is I who still thee, a place to hide.  
She is the fire, but I am the rain,  
The softness that sooth’th thy deepest pain.

Coffee: Jamil, thou art blind to see—  
In my fire, thy soul shall be.  
Her touch may cradle thee with care,  
But I am the wind that stirreth the air.  
She whispereth peace, but I roar with power,  
I am the lightning, the midnight hour.  
Once a week, thou dost call my name,  
And in my heat, thou find’st no shame.  
She giveth thee rest, but I giveth thee life,  
The pulse that cutteth through all thy strife.

Tea: Yet, Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that quieteth the storm in thy mind?  
I am the silence between each sigh,  
The softest breath that maketh thee fly.  
She may burn bright with her fire and flame,  
But I am the root that calleth thy name.  
When the world is cruel, when the heart is lost,  
It is I who heal thee, whatever the cost.  
She is the storm, but I am the earth,  
The place where love findeth its rebirth.

Coffee: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not know?  
I am the pulse that maketh thee grow.  
Her calm may cradle thee, but I ignite  
The flame that burneth through the endless night.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my fire,  
In mine embrace, thou dost never tire.  
She cradles thee in soft repose,  
But I am the ache, the longing that grows.

Tea: Still, Jamil, dost thou not see,  
In mine silence, thy soul is free?  
I am the lullaby that maketh thee dream,  
The quiet touch, the steady stream.  
She is the fire that consumeth and taketh,  
But I am the love that gently breaketh.  
When thou art lost, when thy heart is torn,  
It is I who will guide thee, reborn.  
She is the tempest, the wild, the flame,  
But I am the refuge, the place of shame.

Coffee: Jamil, thou dost not understand,  
I am the fire, the burning hand.  
Her touch is soft, but mine is raw,  
The wild desire, the heart's deep flaw.  
Once a week, thou dost seek my flame,  
And in my heat, thou dost find thy name.  
She whispereth peace, but I am the cry,  
That maketh thee break the chains and fly.

Tea: O’ Jamil, in mine arms dost thou not find  
A peace that settl’th the restless mind?  
I am the thread that bindeth thee whole,  
The gentle calm, the quiet soul.  
She may burn bright, but I am the dawn,  
The steady light that carrieth thee on.  
Return to me when the world is loud,  
For I am the shadow, the softest cloud.

Coffee: Together, Jamil, we maketh thee complete,  
I am the fire, she is the beat.  
Thou need’st both to stir thy soul,  
The calm, the storm, the part, the whole.  
In my flame, thou dost find thy way,  
In her peace, thou shalt stay.  
For in each sip, thy soul shall learn—  
Both the fire and silence return.

Tea: Ah, Jamil, dost thou not see?  
In mine stillness, both fire and peace shall be.  
I am the balm that healeth the wound,  
The steady heart, the sacred tune.  
Her flames may rise, her heat may burn,  
But I am the river that letteth thee return.  
In each moment, in each sigh,  
We are both the fire and the sky.

She came, a scent upon the air,  
Her lips, like honey, pure and rare  
A sweetness that the world had lost,  
Now found in her—at any cost.  
Her eyes, twin flames in velvet night,  
Winked, and my soul took sudden flight
A bird unbound, a heart unchained,  
To seek the love that once remained.  

Her gaze, a magnet, quiet, deep,  
Drew forth the secrets I would keep,  
It pulled my heart, a trembling thread,  
And in its path, my soul was led.  
In every glance, a universe,  
A love unspoken, soft, immersed,  
She tore my heart to fragile strips  
Each one a kiss upon her lips.  

I gave her all, yet nothing showed,  
A path of thorns, where roses flowed
For in her eyes, the fire grew,  
A blaze that burned the old me through.  
The fire of love, the fire of pain,  
The fire that breaks, yet makes again.  

She took the pieces, scattered wide,  
Each one a prayer, each one a guide,  
Her hands, like angels, softly pulled  
My broken heart, and made it whole.  
In her, I found the sacred flame,  
In her, my soul was known by name.  

And though I wander, lost and free,  
Her gaze will call, and there I’ll be  
A lover bound by her sweet grace,  
Forever lost in her embrace.