id: 14014961
Perhaps we were never meant to possess what we love.
Perhaps love is the quiet space
between a hand and a wing—
where nothing is held,
yet nothing is lost.
She looked at the wild,
and the wild looked back.
For a moment, there was no human
and no creature,
no cage, no distance, no name—
only two souls recognizing
something ancient in each other.
Maybe freedom is not the absence of bonds,
but the courage to love
without turning love into a cage.
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