Author’s Note

There are love poems about wanting someone.

There are love poems about losing someone.

And then there are the strange little rituals we create when all we really want is for someone to be okay.

The Unsent Love Spell takes the language of witchcraft and turns it into a metaphor for affection that has nowhere else to go. The ingredients are intentionally dramatic—gold powder, rose petals, a raven feather, even a little blood—but the actual spell is remarkably simple:

I hope you’re happy.

That’s it.

There’s no attempt to control the person. No demand that they return the feeling. No magical command to make them love me back.

Just a ritual built around the hope that life is treating them kindly.

The unsent letter matters just as much as the spell itself. Sometimes the words we most desperately want to say are the ones we choose not to send. So instead, they become something private—a prayer disguised as witchcraft, a love letter disguised as a ritual.

Maybe that’s what some forms of love become when we stop asking, “What can I get from you?”

Maybe they become:

“I hope the world is gentle with you, even when I can’t be there to see it.”

— Rowan Evans

The Unsent Love Spell
Poetry by Rowan Evans

I’m going through withdrawal,
I’ve got the sweats and shakes—
my bones quake, I’m trembling.
I’m a fiend for your happiness, it’s true—
I ache for a small taste,
a simple glimpse of your face—
smiling, to know life
is being good to you.

So there I sit
in a meadow moonlit—
in a circle
all the ingredients arranged—
gold powder, rose petal,
raven feather—
a little bit of my blood
and an unsent love letter.

This is strange—
I’m well aware,
but truthfully it’s a prayer—
witchcraft, a simple spell,
a ritual for wishing you well.

Journey into the Hexverse

If you’re interested in more poetry, you can find it here → [The Library of Ashes]