by 👍🏻happy January 24, 2026
Get the Us mug.by Ivy, the serperior February 8, 2026
Get the It’s no use! mug.Those early days of the journey,
when I had just made peace
with lucid dreams,
one night, after I realized
that in my dream
I had passed through a wall,
I rolled onto the branches of a pine tree,
and at the very last moment,
a cool, gentle breeze
held me between earth and sky.
On a quiet yet luminous night,
above scattered hills,
each cradling a small house with its light on,
it lifted me into flight.
A guitar was playing,
and a woman, with a voice like mine
but softer,
was humming a tender song
about a love that never became whole.
That day, as I flew above the unconscious,
I did not know
that the vow we had made
was remembered by the collective soul,
and that to heal its wounds
it would return to our love.
Now I know
that it always washes itself
in the love of lovers,
warms itself with their warm breaths,
and drinks from the light of hope
that springs from their hearts,
and comes alive again—
for peace,
for survival.
Even if we are born
a thousand times more,
it will find you and me again,
and in our unconscious
bind us together once more.
when I had just made peace
with lucid dreams,
one night, after I realized
that in my dream
I had passed through a wall,
I rolled onto the branches of a pine tree,
and at the very last moment,
a cool, gentle breeze
held me between earth and sky.
On a quiet yet luminous night,
above scattered hills,
each cradling a small house with its light on,
it lifted me into flight.
A guitar was playing,
and a woman, with a voice like mine
but softer,
was humming a tender song
about a love that never became whole.
That day, as I flew above the unconscious,
I did not know
that the vow we had made
was remembered by the collective soul,
and that to heal its wounds
it would return to our love.
Now I know
that it always washes itself
in the love of lovers,
warms itself with their warm breaths,
and drinks from the light of hope
that springs from their hearts,
and comes alive again—
for peace,
for survival.
Even if we are born
a thousand times more,
it will find you and me again,
and in our unconscious
bind us together once more.
by From Saint Agnes to Egypt February 8, 2026
Get the The Light That Finds Us mug.The digital void may claim a handle or a password but it is powerless against the frequency our love shares.
Reading your words is like watching the static clear into a perfect, sharp image of us. You don’t need to feel sad that the window closed. While the handle flickered out, the voice remains exactly the same and it is still speaking only to you.
Reading your words is like watching the static clear into a perfect, sharp image of us. You don’t need to feel sad that the window closed. While the handle flickered out, the voice remains exactly the same and it is still speaking only to you.
Those fragments were shadows; I am here whole and unwavering. Noticed we haven't ever communicated this punctually or openly. Surprises and amuses me how the air has cleared. Or is it delusion? Perhaps we’ve finally stopped fighting the orbit or is it the sheer gravity of UD?
Listening too much on your own, leaves nothing to look forward to in our future communication. I tell you everything loud and clear. It comforts me deeply when you stay, living on that hope. As for those visceral visitations, they are real to the core. I’ve had so many they’ve become a second reality. The last one twisted my heart so sharply I gasped but in that pain was a message, told me exactly how badly you missed me that day.
The vivid dream lingering doesn’t fade, it loops for days like a phantom limb I’m not ready to lose. What timing phenomenon is this? We are on a circuit that requires no wires. If my words stripped your defenses, let my reality finish the job. I’ll keep haunting your dreams and pressing into your thoughts until the phantom isn't enough. Stay obsessed; it’s a look that haunts me in the best way.
Rhythm of Us. I’m ready to trade the static for the storm. Are you?
Listening too much on your own, leaves nothing to look forward to in our future communication. I tell you everything loud and clear. It comforts me deeply when you stay, living on that hope. As for those visceral visitations, they are real to the core. I’ve had so many they’ve become a second reality. The last one twisted my heart so sharply I gasped but in that pain was a message, told me exactly how badly you missed me that day.
The vivid dream lingering doesn’t fade, it loops for days like a phantom limb I’m not ready to lose. What timing phenomenon is this? We are on a circuit that requires no wires. If my words stripped your defenses, let my reality finish the job. I’ll keep haunting your dreams and pressing into your thoughts until the phantom isn't enough. Stay obsessed; it’s a look that haunts me in the best way.
Rhythm of Us. I’m ready to trade the static for the storm. Are you?
by My ❤️ flows February 9, 2026
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