أَعُوذُ بِٱللَّهِ مِنَ ٱلشَّيۡطَٰنِ ٱلرَّجِيمِ، بِسْمِ اللهِ الرَّحْمٰنِ الرَّحِيْمِ

is that where my sanctuary is, there, waiting in your chest? where my head has waited, so long waited, to find its place of rest? people want so many different kinds of things, but for me what suffices is just this: the bosom of my beloved, so the nomad wanders no longer, and finds in that sadr all what life gives. 

most beacons other than my Gift, they show most of silence and restraint, safer courses for ones truly wishing for decency and belief, though apartness is the sharpest pen, scrawled its signature on my soul's surface, marked for me this path, the most common refrain of His tests, to see what choices i'll make after.

for each one that such composes the self, a remnant hole remains, embodied absence, an irreversible reminder of a beloved i have not known yet (or enough to have breathed in). i know, most shall think me crazy, one to care and long for as i do, after either a lifetime or a few minutes of connection, time matters little in that reflection, for there are moments when - it's easy to be certain: "this one, i want to know her forever". these are so scarce, seems a few for every decade passing, could live life as normal and yet never come across another beacon, 

...so i find it worthwhile, to keep them in dua remembered, as memory is my ink, and all my deeds the fountain pen, perhaps one Day He finds at least a single droplet worthy, so all my beloved will be together in our fullest, iA.