we used to be
a language no one else spoke
half-finished sentences
and knowing glances
that stitched the silence shut
we used to be
hands finding hands in the dark
like it was instinct
like the night was only a curtain
and not a distance
back then
laughter lived easy in our mouths
and the future felt small enough
to hold between us
something we could fold
and tuck into a back pocket
now memory does the touching
and I trace the outline
of who we were
like a scar that doesn’t ache
but never disappears
we used to be fire
without thinking of ash
Saffron light (Audio)
I have loved you in lifetimes before this one
before this name, before this face, before these hands learned the
shape of yours.
I loved you when the world was younger, and the sky felt closer to the earth. When we were strangers passing in a marketplace of dust and saffron light, and something ancient in me turned toward you like a compass finding north. I did not know your language then, but my soul did. It recognized the quiet gravity of yours.
I loved you when we stood on opposite shores of a restless sea, watching the same moon stitch silver into the water. The tide carried my longing to you, folded into its patient rhythm. Even the wind knew your name before I spoke it.
Perhaps we were ink and parchment once
you, the steady hand;
me, the trembling confession.
Or two stars born in the same dark cradle, flung apart by time, yet
forever bending the universe back toward reunion. Constellations
shifted just to map the space between us.
I have loved you in lifetimes where we were brave, and in lifetimes where we were not. In worlds where we chose each other loudly, and in worlds where we let silence do the choosing. Still, love threaded through every version of us, quiet as breath, certain as dawn.
And now, here we are again.
Different bodies.
Different histories.
The same unimaginable recognition.
When your eyes meet mine, it feels less like discovery and more like remembrance. As if somewhere beyond the veil of forgetting, we promised: Find me. And we did.
I think that is what love is
not the beginning of something new,
but the continuation of something eternal.
A flame carried carefully from one lifetime to the next,
cupped in trembling hands,
refusing to go out.
Be my Valentine
Happy Valentine’s Day, not just to the couples posting their sweetest moments, but to everyone navigating love in their own quiet way.
Today doesn’t have to be about grand gestures or perfect plans. It can simply be about appreciation. About pausing long enough to say thank you to the people who show up for you, who listen when you’re overwhelmed, who celebrate your small wins, who sit beside you in silence when words aren’t enough.
Love isn’t only candlelit dinners and roses. It’s checking in. It’s forgiveness. It’s an effort. It’s choosing patience when it would be easier to walk away. It’s the courage to be vulnerable. It’s the strength to stay soft in a world that often teaches us to harden.
And if you’re single, healing, heartbroken, or somewhere in between, this day still belongs to you. Love isn’t reserved for those in relationships. It exists in friendships, in family, in community, and maybe most importantly, in the relationship you’re building with yourself.
So today, I hope you feel valued. I hope you give love freely and receive it openly. I hope you remember that love isn’t measured by one day, it’s built in a thousand ordinary moments.
Happy Valentine’s Day. However it looks for you, may it feel real.
❤️ Jennifer ❤️
Daydreaming
I drift where time forgets me
clouds turn into wandering ships
and the world whispers softly
while I gather moments of maybe
You are magic
you are magic
not the kind you hold in your hands
but the kind that lives under your skin
breathing in sync with your heartbeat
it coils in your bones
ripples through your fingertips
and spills from your eyes
before you even know it’s there
you do not have to try
you do not have to prove
the world bends
toward your quiet gravity
because your presence is a song
that hums itself
into every empty corner
you are the sudden warmth
on a cold day
the pulse beneath someone’s longing
the impossible light
that refuses to be tamed
and when you laugh
when you love
when you simply are
the magic inside you
touches everything
Pieces of her
she had to build herself
from pieces scattered like glass
edges sharp and jagged
cutting the hands
that tried to hold her
she learned to gather them
one by one
pressing cracks into patterns
turning breaks into bridges
pain into architecture
her reflection is a mosaic
not whole in the way
the world expects
but whole in the way she chose
stronger in the places
that once bled
beautiful in the places
that were broken
After you
I thought love would leave
like a door closing
one last final click
instead it stayed
as a draft in the house of my chest
moving things when I wasn’t looking
your name became a season
I didn’t know how to dress for
every song was too thin
every silence too loud
I learned the weight of minutes
by how long it took
not to call you
grief is strange
it doesn’t break you in half
it teaches you how to carry
a whole missing person
without dropping anything else
and some nights
when the world is very still
I swear I feel my heart
reach for what used to be there
like a hand still clutching shadows
it cannot hold anymore
Some days
some days
the mind is a house
with flickering lights
rooms you avoid
because they echo too loudly
you smile in the doorway
tell others you’re fine
while the ceiling drips
old fears you never fixed
thoughts pace
like restless ghosts at 3 a.m.
rattling memories
that refuse to be ignored
you learn that strength
is not the armor you wear
but the calm you hold
when no one is watching
healing isn’t a sunrise
that sweeps away the night
it’s learning the dark has furniture
you bruise
you rest
you try again tomorrow
some nights
the darkness loosens its grip
not to vanish
just enough to let you breathe
you don’t defeat the quiet
you live with it
and that
somehow
is light
Rewritten
we move through each other
like tides reshaping the shore
every curve and hollow
a sentence
every sigh a punctuation
in the quiet grammar of touch
time slows
and we exist in the tremor
between breath and heartbeat
between wanting and surrender
fingers trace the landscapes of skin
like cartographers of desire
learning the secret geography
following a hidden path
there is a language here
no word can capture
no silence can still
only the rhythm of two bodies
speaking in pulses and pauses
in glances in whispers
in the flutter of letting go
and when it ends
we are not separate
we are a map rewritten
a song unfinished
a moment held
between earth and sky
between you and me
Footprints
I leave my footprints
where the water forgets
letting the tide erase
what I can’t carry home
the wind learns my name
and gives it back to me in pieces
a laugh
a promise
the space between your words
the horizon keeps our secrets
wide enough to hold
what we never finished saying
even the night knows you
the way the stars lean closer
as if listening
I gather their light like fragments of you
and press them to my chest
proof that absence can still glow
so I stay until the sky
exhales its last color
until my heart remembers
its own rhythm again
and when I leave
I take nothing
but the quiet certainty
that love
real love
never learns how to leave
The Creative Chic 