I loved you in the quiet way
a shoreline loves the tide —
arriving, leaving, never mine,
yet carving something deep inside.
We stood in parallel seasons,
close enough to feel the warmth,
far enough that fate, or timing,
kept its hand between our palms.
There is a grief that has no thunder,
only a soft, persistent ache —
the knowledge that a different life
was possible, but could not take.
So I gather what remains of us:
the clarity, the tenderness,
the proof that I can feel this much
and still return to gentleness.
I turn the love back toward myself,
slowly, like a lantern’s glow,
and let the future find me open
when the heart is ready to grow.
If we meet again in another time,
another version of our days,
perhaps the world will make more room
for what we could not hold in place.
Until then, I walk forward lightly,
carrying only what is true:
that loving you was not a failure —
it was a doorway I walked through.
Bunden vers av Jeflea Norma, Diana.
Publicerad 2025-12-27 00:03