Impacts

As our fates collided, me being a writer, I still wonder how you wrote me better than anyone else.

How your fingers untangled words by weaving through my hair, or how your eyes read the depths of mine like reading a mystery too easily.

Or how the morning sunlight dimmed to your smile that I woke up to, imprinting me with butterflies all over.

The way you fit to me with hugs like long-lost jigsaw puzzle pieces, like being wrapped in your favourite winter blanket.

The way you drenched evenings with Frank Sinatra to my Lauv’s, clawing your way into my life with smooth witchcraft.

You poured on my summer body like a rain of spring long-awaited, like an explosion of colour on a monochrome photograph.

But my best moments lay in the nights – which only the moon witnessed, the way our bodies etched a new story on flesh like unseen tattoos… Oh, how you wove poetry on me that’d put our shadows to shame.

We didn’t belong,

We never owned,

We were not meant for forevers,

But we lasted.

Opposites attract, but my God, did we clash making impacts to stretch for eternity.

***

Note: This photograph does not belong to me.