Author’s Note: The text before the divider is the “forward” or original read. The text after the divider is the reversed poem. Experiment with how the meaning may differ! :)

we had only a season
but it burned brighter in being brief;
mornings stretched golden with your laughter,
flowers in my window swayed in our shared breaths,
with you, even the rain turned gentle.

in each coffee date, each train ride, each smile,
there was a pocket of eternity;
i sought the shape of your hand,
my thumb tracing the quiet ridges of your knuckles,
as if holding on could break the cycle of time.

yet the days kept unfolding, steady and sure,
the edges marred by shadows we never named;
we gathered joy as though it might be endless,
each moment bottled like the fireflies you loved,
even as forever quietly passed us by.

as distance spoke your name,
you chose a path i could not follow;
i smiled watching you go,
and i never reached to hold you back —
love does not build cages.

what we held remains untarnished,
a chamber in my mind, the quiet cavern of the soul;
yet my hands ache with emptiness
in the absence of the one i loved,
the crisp spring air wide as the world.

the crisp spring air wide as the world
in the absence of the one i loved;
yet my hands ache with emptiness,
a chamber in my mind, the quiet cavern of the soul —
what we held remains untarnished.

love does not build cages,
and i never reached to hold you back —
i smiled watching you go;
you chose a path i could not follow
as distance spoke your name.

even as forever quietly passed us by,
each moment bottled like the fireflies you loved,
we gathered joy as though it might be endless;
the edges marred by shadows we never named,
yet the days kept unfolding, steady and sure.

as if holding on could break the cycle of time,
my thumb tracing the quiet ridges of your knuckles,
i sought the shape of your hand;
there was a pocket of eternity
in each coffee date, each train ride, each smile.

with you, even the rain turned gentle;
flowers in my window swayed in our shared breaths,
mornings stretched golden with your laughter —
but it burned brighter in being brief.
we had only a season.