In another life, I might have loved you
not with this guarded, weather-torn heart,
but with soft hands that did not tremble
when fate began pulling us apart.
You were a fruit no lips should taste,
a sweetness ripened out of reach;
you carried every dream I’d traced,
yet silence lingered in your speech.
You had the calm of distant skies,
the kind that quiet storms inside,
the knowing depth in older eyes,
the place where frightened thoughts could hide.
Everything right… yet something wrong
a missing note inside the song.
I thought: next life, perhaps I’ll try,
to learn the way your love might feel,
to stand beneath your patient sky
and let your steady hands heal.
But then he came that reckless flame,
a boy too wild for careful grace;
desire sharpened in his name,
danger dancing in his face.
Obsessed, undone, I crossed the line,
for he was far beyond my league;
his voice like thunder wrapped in wine,
his touch both mercy and fatigue.
You waited somewhere in the air
a meeting fate had once designed,
yet when I turned, you were not there;
another storm had claimed my mind.
Continue…
