Ankica Anchie - Poem
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ANKICA ANCHIE
Some loves do not end.
They only change their body,
their voice,
and the time
in which they learn to burn again.”
SHE CAME…
You came like the fruit of summer
into the winter of my hands
I was not looking for you,
yet every vein in me
knew your name
On your shoulders burned the sun
of another life,
and in your eyes
the woman I loved
before I knew
that love is paid for
with the blood of the heart
You are not her
But her river flows within you
And my thirst knows its course
When you speak,
my years undress
and stand naked before you
Every word of yours
opens an old wound
like ripe fruit
In you, the past does not hide -
it blossoms
Like a vine
climbing the bones of time
I look at you
as one looks at the sea
after losing the ship:
not to be saved,
but to learn how to breathe in depth
You are a bridge
of flesh and light
over which my lost youth crosses,
carrying fire
between its teeth
In your laughter
there is still her rain
In your walk
there is still her night
But you are not her shadow -
you are a new dawn
burning in the same sky
I thought
that love dies
like a bird in a storm
But it only moves
into another body
and continues to burn
with another flame
I do not look at you
to summon her
I look at you
to return to myself
from the ashes
in which I slept
Because in your eyes
nothing has ended -
everything only
transforms
into a deeper fire
II. SHE ANSWERS…
(A woman’s voice that does not flee from the past, but turns it into fire)
I came to you
like a tide that remembers the Moon.
I did not know your name,
but my body
spoke it before words.
In your eyes I saw
the woman who gave birth to me from memory,
and I was not afraid.
For I am not her shadow —
I am her river
in a new bed.
I do not carry your past
as a burden.
I carry it as a seed
seeking the sun.
When you look at me,
your years melt
in my palms.
Time becomes salt,
and pain becomes sea.
I did not come
to mend your wounds.
I came
so that through them
light might pass.
If in my laughter
you hear her rain,
let it fall.
The sky knows
how the earth is kissed.
I do not take her place.
I light her fire
in another body.
Love does not know graves —
it knows paths.
And if you call me by a name
you do not speak,
do not be afraid.
That name now breathes
in my mouth.
For I am not the end.
I am a flame
that learned how to walk.
And you…
you are not a prisoner of the past.
You are a field
into which I came
so that a new harvest of love
might be born
EPILOGUE
And so they touched
like two banks of the same river
that had long flowed underground.
They did not summon the past —
it came on its own
in the scent of bodies,
in the blink of an eye,
in blood that remembers the sun.
In her, he found
the glow of his lost days.
In him, she found
a field where pain becomes bread.
For love
does not die.
It changes skin,
changes voice,
but remains a fire
that knows its own name.
And when gazes meet
across чуж years,
it is not memory —
it is the earth
opening again
for the seed of the same light.
Thus their story
became a silence
that burns,
and a flame
that knows how to walk.
Amb.Ankica Anchie, Croatia
Humanist, Poetessa and writer
