My demons cling to me,
not as enemies,
but as forgotten children,
whispering the secrets of my soul.
They are the aftertaste of desire,
the bittersweet echo of childhood,
when freedom was as vast
as the evening sea,
and fear was a stranger.
I float now, unmoored,
my eyes closed to the world,
my heart open to the infinite.
The universe wraps me
in its eternal embrace,
its love slow and deep,
its regret soft as a mourning dove.
I am made whole by its sorrow,
and undone by its knowing.
For I am two—always two.
One walks in light,
the other dances in shadow.
Together, they burn,
the fire of madness consuming
what grace remains.
I cannot turn from this duality,
for it is the blood in my veins,
the breath in my lungs.
And yet, you stand before me,
a man with the patience of the stars,
the wisdom of the eternal.
You see me, whole and broken,
the storm and the stillness.
Your love is not afraid of my chaos,
for you have made peace with the fire.
You hold me as the sea holds the shore—
gently, fiercely,
with a love that neither takes
nor demands,
but simply is.
In your arms, I am no longer two,
but one—
whole, infinite,
and free.