I have known you before,
though your name was only a whisper in my bones.
You arrived like a song I had forgotten I knew,
your voice threading through my ribs,
your touch like pages worn soft with longing.

We spoke in the language of old souls,
unraveling memories we had never shared,
finding echoes in each other’s quiet places.
Your past fit inside mine.

Your hands knew me.
Not just my skin, but the shape of my sorrow,
the weight I carry in the quiet hours.
And I knew you.
The way storms know the sea,
the way fire knows the wick,
the way my breath met yours in the hush of the dark.

We cried for the lives we never lived together,
held each other as if time owed us something,
as if love were something we could keep
if we just held on tight enough.

Three nights.
A moment.
A lifetime.

And when morning came,
I swore I felt you still,
as if I were breathing for two.