“In the Spaces Between the Flute Notes”
They say he played the flute for her,
Each note a thread between their souls,
A sound the world could never hear—
Only Radha knew it whole.
She came with anklets soft as rain,
Her heart a flame, her eyes the night.
And Krishna smiled, the boy divine,
With galaxies beneath his light.
They danced where time forgot to move,
Where love was law and breath was prayer.
Each glance a vow, each step a truth—
No need for words when hearts lay bare.
But even gods must heed their fate,
And even love must bow to time.
He left the forest, she the stars—
Two halves unjoined, yet still aligned.
She did not ask, “Why not forever?”
He did not say, “We never could.”
Their silence bore what words had shattered—
A love beyond the flesh and wood.
He wed a world, a war, a throne,
But never laid his soul to rest.
For every time he closed his eyes,
It beat beneath her silent chest.
And she?
She lived a hundred lives
Inside one breathless, longing name.
Not bitter, no—just beautifully
Unclaimed by any lesser flame.
For some loves bloom and then depart,
Yet never fade or turn to stone—
They live in spaces torn apart,
And still, somehow, remain our own.
