There are loves that do not measure themselves by the clock.
I did not learn this from poetry. I learned it from staying. From watching how your name softened in my mouth over years, not from repetition, but from belonging. This is what it means to be loving you beyond the limits of time — not as a promise of forever, but as a way of loving now so fully that now does not end where it should.
Time has always tried to be precise. Hours. Dates. The thin line of a life moving forward. Love, in its truest form, is less precise and more faithful. It keeps what time would have filed away.
What Time Cannot Thin
I remember your hands in winter. Not a particular winter. Just the way cold found you first at the fingertips, and how you would slip them, without asking, into the pocket of my coat. Time would say that was years ago. My body says it is still happening somewhere.
There is a kind of memory that does not live in the mind. It lives in the posture. In the way I turn my head when I hear a laugh like yours in a crowded room. In the way I still set a cup down for two, even when you are not there yet.
Some would call this soul recognition, or a twin-flame bond, or simply a feeling that we have met before in a life I cannot name. I hold that belief lightly, as one holds a letter that arrived without a return address — not as proof, but as personal testimony. What I know is this: with you, time folds. It does not run.
If time ends,
let it end later.
I want more of the small eternities:
your voice from the kitchen,
saying my name as if it were ordinary,
your coat still holding the shape
of your shoulders on the chair,
the way you sleep with one hand
open, as if waiting
to be held even in dreams.
I am not loving you for always.
I am loving you beyond the way
always is usually measured.
TIMELESS GENIE FEEDS
The Way It Stays
It stays not by refusing to change, but by changing together. Your face is not the same as when I first met you. Neither is mine. And still, there is a recognition that does not need to be renewed. It is there in the morning before words.
To love beyond limits does not mean without limits. It means our limits are no longer defined by calendars. It means when distance comes, when work pulls, when grief makes us quiet for days, the thread does not snap. It loosens, and then it draws close again without ceremony.
A QUIET THOUGHT
Eternity is not a long time. It is a deep attention to this time.
Loving Without a Deadline
I do not need you to be infinite. I need you to be here, in the way that matters. To leave your book open on the page you were reading. To tell me the truth when your day was hard. To let me love you on the days you are not easy to love.
Beyond the limits of time is not about defeating time. It is about refusing to let time be the only author of our story. We write in the margins. In the coffee cooling. In the forehead kiss that is not photographed anywhere.
FROM THE LOVE & EMOTIONS EDIT
Further pages for the same quiet hour.
LOVE & EMOTIONS
When Love Learns to Stay Soft
On tenderness as a daily practice, not a rare occasion.
LOVE & EMOTIONS
The Memory of Hands That Knew You
For the way touch remembers what the mind tries to archive.
LOVE & EMOTIONS
A Soul Recognition in Plain Clothes
When a stranger feels like a place you have already lived.
If tomorrow comes thinner, or wider, or not at all as we expect it, I will still have loved you in this unmeasured way. I will leave the window open. I will keep your side of the bed warm with attention.
And somewhere, beyond the counting, you will still know the way back.
Comments
Post a Comment