Photo by Judah Wester on Unsplash
What Was Ours, Unnamed
We had something—
fragile, trembling,
but ours.
I know it,
I felt it,
it bloomed between us
like light on paper.
And now it is left unnamed,
discarded without closure,
like a song cut short
mid-note,
its echo aching in the air.
About the Creator
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