A Life Lived in the Name of Shadows

I once asked you—
would you give me a pen name?
You laughed and said—
"It's not easy work, it will take time."

Still haven't found one, I suppose?

Ah!
I don't want you to suddenly
just toss out some name carelessly.
I want—
you to take time, to feel,
cast the shadow of your heart into my writing;
then perhaps choose a name.

I want—
when you quietly read our words,
for you to suddenly remember—
these things you once said to me
on a lonely evening,
in a rain-soaked afternoon,
or in some intimate coffee shop—
where only we existed.

You know,
I wanted to love you beyond my own capacity!

And you?

Looking into your eyes, it seems—
how much you love me,
even you don't know.

Something is happening deep inside me, you know?

I keep thinking—
now you hold me much more than before
within your chest,
not behind the veil of writing—
in the depths of consciousness.

This is how it's felt these last few days.

Why, tell me?

When you do this
I long to breathe in your scent.
I want to touch the warmth of your fingers, the language of your breath.

In my inner chamber
an eternal, unfinished, yet essential seat will remain for you—
as long as I can keep writing.

As if in divine enchantment
we love each other—
in silence, with weightless touch
we build a house of dreams in an inbox alone.

To love you this way,
to cherish you—
brings such peace!

When I feel restless—
you comfort me.
When I burn with anguish—
you touch me.
When I seek peace—
you love me.
When I'm lost—
you embrace me.

I am deeply grateful to you.

In special moments,
in special emotions,
I wait for your embrace.

Special feelings
touch me too
in life's solitary evenings.

In old habit
don't reach out again and say—
"I love you"!