When You Loved Me Again

I traced the echoes of your voice in the empty halls of yesterday, where laughter once bloomed like spring, but winter stole its breath away. Your touch had turned to fleeting ghosts, your warmth—an ember lost to time, and I, a poet with shattered words, rewrote love in broken rhyme. I watched you drift, a tide pulled back, your heart a stranger in your chest. Each "I love you" felt like paper-thin air, a whisper lost, an unheard request. Yet somewhere in the quiet ache, as hope lay bleeding in my hands, a spark returned—a tender glance, a warmth I’d longed to understand. And then, like dawn upon the sea, your fingers laced with mine once more, your lips breathed life into my soul, and love was not a closing door. Oh, how the sky seemed wide again, how stars rejoiced in silver light, for when you loved me once again, the world no longer felt like night.