and the holders of souls, then
you and I predate ancient scripture.
When you crashed into my world
all prescience and wisened intuition,
I wonder if you felt the pain lingering in me
as you gently sought to see beneath my shell.
Did you hear the sobs that escaped me
with every cicatrice spilled from my lips,
or the nervous crack of my voice
as I confessed my tenderness to you?
Did you feel the recoil in my frame
when your fingers first laid upon my skin,
as I shared abundances and intensities,
whilst freighted with discomfort, because
others taught me revulsion for my purest self.
And when you first kissed me,
I trembled and asked if I still tasted
of heartache and war, because
I savoured you made of strength and healing,
everything I felt so unworthy of.
I wonder if you felt the agony of joy
spill across my messy infinitudes
as you stared down my flaws and
doubts and fear, looking upon my darkness
as though it were a most precious gift.
I think we realised we were symmetry then
but perhaps we were always, intimately tied.
With you I found myself flickering
between states of a restless slumber,
as though you are an incandescent dream
that has existed through time, but that
I could only momentarily grasp onto.
Perhaps we were born of primordial realms.
As though the God of Sky, and
father of all humans,
had us separated into halves
condemned us to live lifetimes
in search of our missing selves.
And with every vast similitude
that each of us professed to bear,
I was saturated with your silhouette
as though we existed in synchronous bursts.
Ethereal threads drawn tight
with such unexpected quickening
that in a dangerously ephemeral crash,
you became me.
You became the vast atmosphere of my breath,
and energy streaming through every nerve,
conduits of decadence pulsing across my skin
and the cadence my body would hum
each time you were inside me.
I’m not sure either of us were ready, but by then
I would have to cut myself to pieces to let you free.
You became me,
and we were made for this dance
long before we were born,
as though we exist in a sacred timeline,
that held us predestined to meet.
In the aftermath of our collision
I felt that I was bound to you,
some vague clairsentience
of having loved you, and lived
inside of you for a thousand decades.
We were frequencies and magnetism
in their full unattenuated force,
and when the shimmer of constellations fade,
you’ll still be stardust in my veins.
Love feels too small a word
for a force so significant.
For a connection that has waited, everlong.
I know you, inexplicably
and without doubt
I know you, have known you before.
We exist in a sacred timeline,
as though we were always meant to meet.
