Some love stories
never become stories.
No anniversary.
No photograph
on a wall.
No legal word.
No room
where everyone agrees
what the two people were.
Still,
something happened.
Two lives touched
and did not return
to their original shape.
Perhaps that is enough.
Not every love
is meant to become possession.
Some are simply encounters.
A person enters,
moves one piece
of furniture inside you,
opens a window,
then leaves.
Years later
you still live differently
because the light
comes in from there.
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