not ours

I carry your name like a secret flame, burning quietly in the corridors of my chest. The world is not cruel—only unready, and time, that merciless keeper, bars the gates of “us.” Your presence lingers like half-finished dawn, a horizon aching to break into day, yet chained by the night’s last whisper. I long to claim you, but fate has hidden the key. So I wait— not in despair, but in reverence. For the hour will come when the universe loosens its grip, when silence turns to symphony, and the stars finally conspire to name you mine.