Neverlust
What is restrained will never extinguish.
She was the sea. He was the land.
A story of never— for to join would mean ruin.
So they learned to ache in fragments: wave, shore, tide— stolen touches torn away.
Their lust was not gentle. It was the kind of force that bends planets, that births stars, collates matter.
To touch fully would be to release it— to break the world they loved.
Restraint became their magnum opus.
Forever.
And still—
look closely: wherever they meet you find traces of passion.
She is the sea. He is the land.