01
Days passed without measure.
I stopped counting them.
The noise in my head
did not leave at once.
It fought.
It circled back.
It tried to make itself important.
But the woods are patient.
They do not argue.
They outlast.
02
Exile is not being sent away,
it is being forced to live
where meaning still exists
but permission does not.
You feel it in moments that misfire:
a laugh arriving too early,
a thought addressed to no one,
a warmth with no object.
The field remains intact.
Only access is revoked.
03
When you were with me,
you spoke more honestly,
laughed more freely,
as if you knew even then
it wouldn’t last forever,
loved more bravely,
and believed,
if only for a while,
that tenderness
could survive in this world.
04
I have loved
with the gravity of planets
clung to bodies
as if they were
lifeboats sailing toward
the infinite hush
05
Now the mirror shows
a stranger I recognize.
The same eyes,
but deeper.
The same hands,
but steadier.
06
Another sunrise.
Another chance
to get it right.
And I will.
Because the fire’s back -
quiet,
controlled,
mine.
07
My eyes, open to light,
to the glisten of dew on blades of grass,
to the dance of shadows across the ground,
as if the earth itself breathes,
stretching, stirring,
and I am part of its waking,
alive in every quiet miracle,
every whisper of the world.
08
Be grateful.
For the breath that fills your lungs,
for the silence that cradles your thoughts,
for the gift of this moment -
unpaid, unpromised,
but yours entirely.
09
This love of ours is the weight of every lifetime
the children we bore, the joys we shared,
the dreams that filled our hearts.
I have loved you through it all,
and as I sit here now,
I feel the same love burning inside me,
as if no time has passed at all.
10
Hair rose at the back of my neck as I wrote,
as if time itself
ran its fingers along my spine,
reminding me of what I could not outrun.
The ticking, louder now,
echoed in the quiet,
each beat a hammer,
each second a pulse I couldn’t ignore.