Fragment III – The Unspoken Thread

They had crossed before — in other turns of time,
in other skins, other names.
Not always as allies. Not always as one.
But always as mirrors.

He remembered. That was part of his task.
The burden of the older soul — to carry the story,
to know the shape of what must not be repeated.

She felt it in shadows —
a soft pull behind the ribs,
a leaning toward him that had no reason.

There was a linger between them, yes.
A familiarity that tasted like longing,
but didn’t settle into it.

She mistook it for attraction once.
He said nothing.
Because he could not speak it.
Because timing was a law stronger than memory.
Because if he moved from want instead of wisdom,
the crossing would collapse.

She did not yet know the fullness of who she was —
only the edges of what she was becoming.

He could not rush that.
Not again.

So he waited.
He watched the light shift in her.
And when she met his gaze with questions she couldn’t voice,
he let silence shape the answer —
a hush that held the weight of knowing.

With Grace & Ink,

Mai