JUST A QUESTION IN HIS EYES

A thousand voices called her name, silver and empty...

But his was different — not a lie, not a lure, just a question, sharp and gentle as a blade of light...

She tried to hide behind the veil, behind the screen, behind the goddess they imagined her to be...

Yet his silence pressed closer than the loudest cries...

It was not her beauty he sought, not the body they worshipped — but the trembling soul she had buried beneath masks...

Why does he not want what others crave?

Why does he stay, when he asks for nothing?

Perhaps the scariest truth is this: to be seen without disguise, to be held without touch, to be loved without chains...

Her voice rises like a confession and burns like defiance — fragile piano giving way to strings that surge like a storm...

In every note, she trembles, and in every tremble, she is free...

For in his eyes lives not demand, but a question...

And in answering, she finds herself...

"Why don’t you want my body?
Why do you reach my soul?..."

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