The Truth That Never Left Our Skin

O My Loved One

The stars shine

like the small gold circles

that once trembled at your wrists.

The moon watches me

with the same quiet hunger

your eyes once carried.

The air moves across my face—

soft, close—

like your breath before a whisper.

The curtain sways in the dark,

ringing lightly

like your earrings

brushing your neck.

Our sweat merged—

not fragrance,

but salt and heat—

filling our bodies

with something winter could not touch.

The cold tried to wrap us

in its lie.

But our bodies locked

around a truth

that never loosened,

never slipped,

never left our skin.