The Night After
On the night that followed,
the angels folded their wings in silence
and waited for the sign:
a breath, a tear, a verse.
God rose slowly,
like a poet who has finished writing the world
and has no one left to read it.
Then He looked at me,
and I, from the ruins of light,
said simply:
“I was here.
And I loved You
to the point of burning.”
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