We let love be like water to wine,

And being with you was beyond a dream come true. It was divine. You were everything I wanted. More than that, you became all I needed. With you, any and everything became possible. You were my living miracle.

We let love be the higher design,

And with you, I could believe in destiny. There were too many coincidences to not believe in the designs of an entity beyond our understanding. I was happy to trust fate.

We let love be a call in the night,

And I will never forget the nights I put you to sleep. To hear you drift off, into dreams of me and our future, was pure bliss. Hearing you snore was never a bore either; it was a lot of fun. Besides, it was ammunition to use in teasing you.

We let love be be the fire divine,

As you set my soul alight and my body on fire in the passion of our lovemaking. For each time I lost myself thrusting into you, I found myself in your heart, and felt like I had come home.


Won’t let go of it all,

But realise even as you try to bear it all, your guilt, my disappointment, our love and hurts, that something has to give. Even goddesses are limited to their worshippers. Your pedestal is no more, by your own hands. You have made me an apostate.

And I,

Know I started it all.

I broke the taboo. I am to blame for how we began, as I knew you belonged to another. I dared to want it all, to have it all, and forgot that I was never dependent on me alone. Now I wear my failure like a coat of ugly colours.

But I,

Know I started to run,

Towards you, even you as you ran further away. I was so caught up on who you could be, that I never stopped to think about whether you wanted to be what I saw in you. I would have followed you anywhere, for as long as it took, but I should have seen that it wasn’t what you wanted.

And You,

Won’t let go of the gun.

Our revolver of love and pain. Five times, you shot me as you let me go. Five times, I have died inside and then come back to life, after you again like a revenant. This time, with a tearful smile, I hold the barrel firm and welcome your last shot. There is no return; I am done.

And in that moment, reflecting on all that has happened to us, we ask ourselves:

“O god below, what have we done?”

*One of many versions inspired by RY X’s “Salt”


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