Unveiled

What once hid in shadow
now rises in ease.

The parts I thought would flee
choose to stay —

letting me touch
what I once
feared to feel.

No defense.
No retreat.

Just presence —
quiet,
soft,
and real.

All of You

I have been touched
by hands that held no heart —
grasping without depth,
gripping without soul.

And I have been held
by hearts that trembled like birds,
too gentle to land,
too fleeting to stay.

I have danced with power
disguised as love,
and love
disguised as softness.

But now,
I ask for neither echo nor illusion.

I call in the one
whose gaze stays steady
when I soften —
whose spine does not tremble
at the weight of truth.

I do not seek fire that devours,
nor comfort that forgets to lead.

I seek the flame that holds,
builds,
and keeps its word
even when the night grows long.

I have walked with what was almost.
I have carried what others could not.

Now —
I open
to what arrives
whole.

Not in fragments.
Not in shadow.
But with breath,
with spine,
with all of you.

What If

What if we met again
as if for the first time —
not with memory,
but with wonder?

No past to carry,
no silence to bridge,
just the pull of something
that never really left.

What if your eyes found mine
and forgot what we never said —
but remembered
what the body whispered
when the world fell away?

What if the air between us
held something tender and near —
like breath,
like prayer,
like the space that only opens
when everything becomes clear?

And if your hand found mine —
not out of habit,
but in perfect time —
would the ground between us
open again
like a rhythm,
like a sign?

Would something in me
still stir at the sound of your voice —
not for what it was,
but for what it calls forth now?

And what if we didn’t go back,
but forward —
not to repeat,
but to root
into something quiet
and finally
real?

What if we met again
not to return,
but to begin —
more honest,
more open,
more undone
than ever before?

Sovereign Veins

They called it order.
I called it silence.
Behind the treaties,
beneath the gold —
my voice began to remember
what theirs forgot.

They rebranded what they once condemned.
Changed the name,
kept the game.
But I no longer fold myself
to fit their frames.

Where they saw risk,
I traced the thread.
While they measured loss,
I mapped what could remain.

They muted the page.
I became the ink.
Not to fight —
but to hold.
Not to shout —
but to shape.

Untamed

You move like something ancient —
not tamed,
not trained,
but deeply known.

You don’t perform.
You are.

A storm contained in skin.
A decision made in silence.
A man who doesn’t ask for surrender —
but creates the ground
where it happens.

You speak in gestures.
You claim without noise.
And when you look,
you don’t search —
you see.

The world may call you wild.
I call you true.

Because in your presence,
I unravel.
Not to fall apart —
but to become
more woman
than I knew I was.

Still Love

What if love never left?
What if it simply waited —
for the version of you who could receive it?

The one who knows how to rest.
How to soften.
How to hold her own gaze without turning away.

Love is not always a spark.
Sometimes it’s the space that remains.

Come Undone

Don’t come polished —
come undone.
Not the gold,
but where you run.

Let your words wear no perfume,
let silence shape what dares to bloom.

I do not seek perfection’s face —
I crave the truth,
in its own pace.

Let your presence rise uneven,
like a moon not always seen.
Let your voice shake —
if what it speaks
has roots beneath the green.

I will not flinch at what is raw,
nor bind you in a sculpted law.
Only masks will make me flee —
the soft unknown?
That’s home for me.

So stand — not tall, but real and near.
No armor.
No design.
Just here.

For what I want
is not your shine…
but the soul you thought
you had to hide.

Future Vow

You will not find me in the rush,
nor in the chase of fleeting gold.
I live in the quiet places —
where meaning lingers, and love takes hold.

I’m not seeking fireworks,
but a hearth that stays warm.
A man whose word is shelter,
whose gaze becomes form.

Let your presence be the pillar,
and mine, the sacred space.
Together — not in noise,
but in unshakable grace.

I’ll meet you not in stories told,
but in the life we choose to write —
hand in hand,
with roots below
and stars in sight.

Sacred Shelter

I will not bloom in the storm.
I am not a fire to be tamed.
But in your stillness, in your gaze —
I become the flame.

Let your hands be the home where I rest.
Let your voice be the calm in my chest.
Not because I need saving,
but because
you know how to stay.

Devotion

Let it not be loud —
this love we make.
Let it be steady,
sacred,
unshakably awake.

Let us meet in the space
where words are few,
but presence stays —
and the silence says:
I choose you.

Weil du warst

Deine Worte —
leicht wie Morgenküsse,
dein Schweigen —
ein Raum,
in dem ich nicht glänzen musste,
nur sein.

Manchmal warst du nur ein Duft,
ein Lächeln durch Glas,
ein sanftes Wecken
inmitten von Alltag.

Du hast mich gehalten,
in Zärtlichkeit,
in Aufmerksamkeit,
in Leichtigkeit.

Und dafür
verneigt sich mein Herz
in stiller Dankbarkeit.

Nicht,
weil es endlos war —
sondern weil es einen Anfang in mir fand.

In Between

You came like dusk upon the shore —
no name, no need… just something more.

You moved like breath the wind forgot,
and stirred a hush I never sought.

You touched me — not to leave a trace,
but to reshape the very space.

No storm, no claim, no aching song —
just presence brief… but soul-long strong.

Not all who come are meant to stay —
some arrive to light the inward way.

Unbound

I fell from hands that named me wrong,
and rose through ash to write my song.

My bloodline spoke in silent chains —
I broke them soft, through sacred pain.

I held my breath where temples bled,
and stitched my worth in threads unsaid.

I was the storm they never saw —
the hush between their curse and law.

I carved my altar from their shame,
and dared to dance without a name.

Silk & Ash

Power once draped me like silk —
until your fire made it ash.

I wore the night like a velvet crown,
but craved the hand that laid it down.

My name was known,
my grace rehearsed —
but your gaze cracked
the gilded verse.

You moved like smoke in satin rooms,
where silence bloomed
and truth resumed.

Not all who touch me leave a mark —
but you lit a fire,
then walked the dark.

I kissed the game and bowed to none…
but once,
with you,
I wept —
and called it love.

About Me

I was born in snow, but dreamed in sun —
a daughter split, yet forged as one.

Between the order and the wild,
I lost the world, but found the child.

I’ve lived as petals, pixels, flame —
now stillness is my only name.

They taught me strength in muted tones —
I turned their silence into stones.

What I now seek wears no disguise —
it moves in breath, and meets my eyes.