Then I refuse to play this game of karma

One day, in the soft glow 
of our early interactions, 
he whispered a possibility, 
like a secret carried on the wind— 
in past lives, we were either best friends 
or karmic lovers, bound by threads unseen, 
woven into the very fabric of our souls. 

I looked into his eyes—soft green depth reflecting my uncertainty, 
and wondered aloud, "But what will we be in this life?" 
The air thick with unspoken promises, 
his voice wrapped around me like silk: 
"We will be lovers after all." 

Oh how I never regretted that choice— 
the way his words slided under my skin, 
how every sigh was a rekindling of fire; 
his beauty an intoxicating wine, aged to perfection. 

He was so mature—each word he spoke dripped with experience.   
A couple of decades carved into his being;   
a reckless past etched in thin lines upon his face.   
And in those moments when silence stretched between us,   
it felt as if we were both reaching back through time;   
echoes resonating from lives long past. 

Yet beneath the sweetness lingered shadows—   
an ominous whisper threading through our joy.   
We dreamed and gasped beneath starlit skies,   
but somewhere deep within us lay the knowledge:   
our love had always ended too soon;   
a tragic refrain replayed across time.   

We navigated this delicate path without knowing it—a desperate leap toward fate's cruel scheme.   
Each encounter tasted of sweetness tinged with sorrow,   
as if destiny held its breath just out of reach.   

How could two souls collide so passionately yet carry such weight?   
In every heartbeat resided a haunting memory—   
that love unfurled only to fold back in upon itself;    
two hearts passing under veils of night and regret.   

Still we loved as if defying time's decree—    
an act of rebellion against cosmic design;    
moment by moment weaving strands of hope      
into the tapestry of now.

So here we were again—a beautiful chaos enveloping us—    
a love steeped in passion but shadowed by loss;    
and I wondered if our hands were fated to part once more,
or if this time,
we would rewrite our story
in this reality,
with hearts wide open
to possibility,
determined to break free
from echoes
of what had been.

[2022/2023]