The lake plays with twilight, seeping amber and rose, 
it paints a faint reflection before the dark of night grows. 
Your fingers brush near mine, steady and hushed, 
beneath the slow fading light, folding time leisurely, not rushed.
 
Windows rolled down, our music sweeping through the streets, 
carrying the laughter and words we were too nervous to speak. 
You harmonized to my melody, two lives syncretic-ally strummed, 
Every refrain folded us closer into our own world of young love.
 
The depths hold our stories beneath slow pacing currents,
muffling every harsh thought and soothing every heavy worry. 
Our channel turned dark like tides weaving through reeds, 
passing hours into nights that I quietly stopped feeding. 
 
You shared fragile fears and I held them like delicate glass; 
you trusted me with your sacred fragments and hidden wounds on your back. 
The evening slipped softly, water swirling in soft, quiet hymns,
as your smile faded into stillness and darkness curled between us again.
 
My patience stretched thinner than a breath held before the first raindrop falls,
The air between us grew thicker than noon’s dew after morning fog. 
Your scent clings to the cotton I pull over my head,
sleeves bunched around my wrists, once worn by someone who promised to protect. 
 
I sit in the echo of a love that I never watered for it to bloom, 
in yearning unspoken prayers, in a dream that I quietly withdrew.
Each dusk held its breath, rooting softly for our forever, 
waiting for every moment that I let quietly fade into our never.



Friday 27 June 2025