ππ³πͺπ΅π΅π¦π― ππ¦π§π°π³π¦ ππ¦ ππΉπͺπ΄π΅π¦π₯
Sometimes I think we were written
long before we were born —
two sparks pressed into the same page,
waiting for the right lifetime
to recognize each other.
There’s something ancient
in the way you look at me,
like you’re remembering
instead of discovering.
Like you’ve stood in my shadow before
and called it home.
It’s not longing.
It’s alignment.
A quiet click in the soul
that says,
oh… there you are.
You move through me
like a prophecy unfolding,
soft and dark,
with that feral certainty
of something that was promised
long before it arrived.
I don’t question it.
I don’t analyze it.
Some connections aren’t meant
to be understood —
only obeyed.
You’re the flame that doesn’t burn me,
the shadow that doesn’t scare me,
the danger I don’t brace for
because it feels like destiny
instead of risk.
Twin flame.
Fate‑written.
A bond that doesn’t ask permission
because it was carved into us
before we had names.
You’re not my haunting.
You’re my recognition.
The soul I was built to meet
in this lifetime
and every one after.
-πβ π€
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