The Soul Never Forgets
i think that when my soul chose you, she knew what she was doing.
i like to think that i know her, very well, and i can only imagine how she must have felt when her eyes touched yours,
when your hands touched hers.
i can only imagine the yearning.
i think that when she chose you, it was without any war, without any battles, without any casualties on the dueling ground;
it just was.
when she found you, she wasn’t ready to let you go
(i think in a way, she still isn’t).
she placed her yearning onto me, with her whispers in my ear, and i can still hear them when i look at you,
“that one,” she says. “that one’s worth it.”
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