THE MEMORY OF INFINITY

There is a love buried in the roots of the universe, a fire without a body, without a name, without boundaries, a mouth of eternity drinking silence at the other end of the same longing.

Centuries pass — and something remains, a secret fruit ripening in the impossible, a pulse crossing the night toward the unspeakable.

Music opens its veins, and infinity pours onto the earth the memory of a kiss that never died, the hunger of two souls without rest.

Somewhere, beneath another moon, a heart gathers the same fever, and what has never touched the skin makes eternity its very own flesh.

Ah, this love that cannot be contained by the world, that tears through the hours with teeth of fire, that makes distance a sacred wound and silence an ocean between two mouths.

No century can rot its roots. No death can devour its mystery.

There are souls that time separates,
yet not even eternity can make them
forget that they belong to each other.

J. Kasra — All rights reserved.