I’m not attached to you.
No.
I hold a reverence for you.
You know.

I see your light- even when you slip beyond my sight;
my footing still, even when you drift at night.
We reconnected in winter, in a yurt lit low, the cold pressing the forest outside-
we slowed.
Our own heat we carried, like an East Coast tide.
A stillness rose between us- clean, elemental, bold—
two currents intertwining naturally, without pressure, without being told.

I see your beauty even when you can’t see me;
I feel your presence like set waves pulling through the deeper sea.
Your energy stays sharp, like southerly swells breaking hard in the lee,
a force that moves in the inner realm where our hearts held deep degree.

Our connection holds like yin and yang- two contrasts meeting, creating life without demand-
each of us saying “here I am,” steady, true, unmanned.
We moved in higher realms where different language barely guides, where presence is the proof-
two lives carved by seasons in youth,
and when we crossed, the depth was instant, recognition absolute.

There are echoes of you in hours that act as if they’re breaking free,
fingerprints and flashbacks on days that still carry your memory.
Great love leaves marks- not wounds, but inscriptions:
etched in stone; the depths, the memories with their quiet constrictions.

And now that you’re gone, my days move under a different creed-
oats at dawn, no gluten, sun on my skin like ljus the spirit feeds,
rituals that anchor the body while the heart learns its deeper speed.

I’m not just attached to you.
No.
I hold a reverence for the bond we carry.
You know.