{"id":486,"date":"2025-08-25T15:15:57","date_gmt":"2025-08-25T15:15:57","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/ael.xeo.mybluehost.me\/website_638532f3\/?p=486"},"modified":"2026-01-02T19:20:14","modified_gmt":"2026-01-02T19:20:14","slug":"oculi_clarias","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lorynthsblog.online\/website_638532f3\/oculi_clarias\/","title":{"rendered":"Oculi Clarias"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"\">This poem is my quiet love letter, it is an ode to pure devotion without desire. I wrote it to honor someone whose presence and love I cherish deeply. It is a poem about witnessing, about care, about a love that is patient, tender, and entirely alive. <\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-full\"><img data-recalc-dims=\"1\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"640\" height=\"496\" loading=\"lazy\" src=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lorynthsblog.online\/website_638532f3\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/cf9d4c9d61352a724f9294c65e1e7ace.jpg?resize=640%2C496&#038;ssl=1\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-696\" srcset=\"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lorynthsblog.online\/website_638532f3\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/cf9d4c9d61352a724f9294c65e1e7ace.jpg?w=640&amp;ssl=1 640w, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/lorynthsblog.online\/website_638532f3\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/08\/cf9d4c9d61352a724f9294c65e1e7ace.jpg?resize=300%2C233&amp;ssl=1 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<pre class=\"wp-block-verse\">I have loved you<br>as I loved Latin names,<br>scrawled in the serrated margins<br>of my old notes,<br>each genus a brittle hinge,<br>each syllable a breath<br>I held without breaking.<br><br>Clarias anguillaris was my favorite ache,<br>and you are the current;<br>tapered, stark,<br>in the ways that matter most.<br><br>Your eyes resemble tapioca pearls,<br>brown as wet fertile earth,<br>the silt of old winters settled in the grain.<br><br>I watch the black pupil <br>soften into a sudden warmth,<br>a slow death of the ego<br>where midnight surrenders<br>to a honeyed dawn.<br><br>Those pearls splinter my soul,<br>as if nature conspired in your making<br>solely to rewrite me,<br>only to unmake me.<br><br>I fall into the depths;<br>the stag's heart racing<br>beneath the archer's trembling thumb,<br>time starts to dissolve.<br><br>For the first time<br>I am no observer of the past or a fear of the future,<br>I am finally, agonizingly, present.<br><br>I fall into them, gently,<br>the way stacked Jenga collapse into themselves,<br>once you have finally acted.<br><br>Your hair is stolen sunlight,<br>the bruised bronze of an autumn riverbank,<br>catching the day<br>without ever having to ask.<br><br>I trace it only in thought<br>slowly, faithfully<br>memorizing the shape of you<br>without reach of hand,<br>without poverty of touch.<br><br>Are we reflections of a single light?<br><br>Held in a cold, parallel drift;<br>never colliding,<br>never grasping,<br>two currents that acknowledge<br>their similtude in the other.<br><br>I know, with a certainty<br>that asks nothing of proof,<br>that you are entirely,<br>achingly whole,<br>and that I am held<br>merely by standing next to you.<br><br><br>I have no use for the hunger of hands,<br>nor the shallow depth of a kiss;<br>I require only your presence,<br>the silent continuum of your breathing,<br>the way your being<br>leans against mine<br>and stays so still<br>I dare not draw a breath.<br><br>Clarias anguillaris,<br>my favorite genus,<br>and you;<br>my favorite boy,<br>my steady light<br>invading every empty space I used to be.<br><br>I am patient.<br>I hold your reflection,<br>without the greed of grasp,<br>the void of hunger.<br><br>I am rejuvenated life<br>ignited as your witness.<br>For in the intricacy of you,<br>the universe abandons chaos<br>and settles.<br><br>J &amp; A,<br>A &amp; J,<br>no thought to how,<br>it holds.<br><br>-AT<\/pre>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>This poem is my quiet love letter, it is an ode to pure devotion without desire. I wrote it to honor someone whose presence and love I cherish deeply. It is a poem about witnessing, about care, about a love that is patient, tender, and entirely alive. I have loved youas I loved Latin names,scrawled [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-486","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-poems"],"yoast_head":"<!-- This site is optimized with the Yoast SEO plugin v27.5 - https:\/\/yoast.com\/product\/yoast-seo-wordpress\/ -->\n<title>Oculi Clarias - Lorynths Blog<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/lorynthsblog.online\/website_638532f3\/oculi_clarias\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"en_US\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Oculi Clarias - Lorynths Blog\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"This poem is my quiet love letter, it is an ode to pure devotion without desire. 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