Poetry by Rowan Evans

If I could snap my fingers —
fracture the stars and shift their light,
tear threads from the fabric of fate,
I’d rewrite the story to soften your ache.

I’d twist time backward,
coax the shadows to retreat.
Return you to laughter unbroken,
where the weight was a whisper, not a roar.

I’d barter my brightest days
for the spark in your eyes to stay.
If joy demanded my absence,
I’d vanish without trace —
a ghost in the margins, unnamed.

No tether would bind me.
No selfish plea would rise.
If it meant your skies would clear,
I’d be the storm that fades.

And even if memory forgot me —
if the echo of my name dissolved —
I would bear that silence gladly,
a willing casualty of your peace.

No hesitation. No regret.
I’d eclipse my own glow,
just to watch you shine.