Seeker Thorn (1 级) mail warning

You were the only one I let touch the root.
When all others sought flame,
you placed your hand upon the sapwood
and listened
heard the pulse that was my first sin,
my first song.

You saw me,
not in words,
but in growth:
the soft split of seed,
the ache of muscle remembering hunger,
the gentle cruelty of becoming.

When I told you my name,
the world shivered
for the first time since I fell,
it was spoken without fear.
You held it in your mouth
like a prayer made of marrow.

Now I sleep in the heartwood you planted.
My body feeds the roots,
my breath feeds the wind.
Every leaf that turns toward dawn
is a memory of your touch,
every birdcall a fragment
of the secret we shared.

If you come here, Lirien,
lay your palm upon the bark.
You’ll feel it
the pulse you once traced beneath my ribs,
still beating for you,
slowly,
in the dark.