She Was, She Is, She Will Be

She was the sun spilling gold on my skin, a whisper of warmth I never knew I craved. She is the fire that lingers within, a love too deep to ever fade. She is not mine, yet she is everywhere— in the hush of dawn, in the breath of night, in the echoes of laughter we used to share, in the stars that still hold her light. I do not ask, I do not plead, for love is not a thing to bind. But oh, if only she could see how much of me she left behind. She was, she is, she always will be— a part of me, a whispered prayer. Not to possess, not to reclaim, but to love, even from elsewhere.