Queen of Green

I remember, as if it

were yesterday,

when we first met.

I swear, I’ve known you before.

Our souls danced once before,

in this life—or the next.

No time or distance

seemed to exist,

yet the gaps of your

absence were sharp,

echoing mine.

We were in the arms of others,

but the moment our eyes met,

it hit us:

they were the monsters

of our nightmares—

familiar faces that dwell

in the hidden chambers

of the soul.

Everything else felt like shadow play.

The urge to reach

each other

grew unbearable—

an itch, a burn, a pull,

a magic magnet that

seemed to defy logic.

We pushed it down,

letting it anchor so deep

it sunk beneath

the River Styx.

And one day,

we pulled enough to know

there was no turning back.

Our love was a

quiet tsunami

without warning;

chaos was already

storming from the horizon.

In the silence,

I knew my name

lived in your heart,

where hers was supposed

to be.

And you knew I loved you,

and I could see—

you pretended not to love me,

the cracks of your mask

widening the longer you watched,

as I searched for your devotion

in empty places

that could not touch your depth.

When you reached for me,

your touch electrified my senses.

Your gaze cut through my heart

like a sword cutting through fog.

Sharp, undeniable.

Our love was true and terrifying.

You were everywhere and nowhere—

in the corners, the shadows,

the nooks, the cracks

of every room.

There was nowhere to hide,

not even in the darkest nights;

you brought in the sunshine.

We were shadow and spring—

mystery and desire,

a compelling passion

that pulled us without warning,

bound by the darkness and flames

that only we could endure.

We lied.

You to me, and I to you.

So we did what we thought,

best to do.

Pretended that we never knew.

We lied to protect ourselves

from a love that belonged

only in the ancient myths of gods and goddesses.