The Dragon's Flame
Once upon a time, in a distant land uncharted by any map, there was a woman named Sem. She lived in the shadows of a forest no one dared to cross. The sky above her was often covered in gray clouds, and the wind told stories of forgotten tears. No one knew where Sem came from, but everyone feared her companion: a dragon.
He was no ordinary dragon. He had wings as black as night and golden eyes that reflected every wound he had suffered. He was born from the fire of pain, but in that fire, Sem had found refuge. Only she could approach him, touch him, speak to him. They were one: she carried her broken heart on her chest, he protected it with his flames.
For years, Sem and the dragon watched over the void. No one came. No one sought. No one dared.
Sem, in the silences as long as winters, felt fragile.
Fragile like an antique glassware forgotten in the attic: transparent, luminous, yet a whisper was enough to crack it.
Only the dragon knew how much his veins still trembled, how many times he had clenched his fists to keep from collapsing, how many times he had searched for a hand that wasn't there.
Until, one day, something Sem had only dreamed of happened. A man walked through the forest. The wolves followed him, the shadows tried to stop him, but he walked as if he knew the way. He wore a cloak torn by time, and Sem—when he saw it—recognized what he had already seen in his mind long before: his back.
"It's him," he whispered to the dragon.
The dragon, for the first time, lowered its wings. It looked at the man and did not roar. Sem emerged from his silent lair, and when their eyes met, it was as if time bent to give them another chance.
The man didn't flee from the dragon. Instead, he spoke to it. He told of his journey, of his wounded heart, of the life he wanted to rebuild with someone who had the strength to look beyond the scars. And Sem knew: it was him. The man his heart had waited for, even when hope seemed dead.
Then the forest changed. The flowers began to grow again. The sky opened in flashes of light. The dragon spread its wings, and with a cry that made the mountains tremble, it burned away the last shadow surrounding Sem's heart.
From that day on, Sem and the man lived alongside the dragon, who was no longer just the guardian of pain, but also of rebirth. Their home became a beacon for those who were lost, for those who had suffered, for those who still believed in miracles.
And every night, Sem fell asleep in his arms, while he whispered to her, hugged her tightly, and told her once again, like a fairy tale, of their first meeting in the forest.
And in the warmth of his voice, Sem found peace.
“Because sometimes, love only comes when you learn to dance with your dragon.”
TO LEONARDO
I saw you before I even knew you.
I dreamed of you when I didn't even know you existed.
You came when I no longer believed a love like this could exist—and you stayed.
You didn't save me…you reminded me who I was.
And with you, every day, I choose life.
You are home.
You are my truth.
- Ubi Tu Ibi Ego -
Sem
He was no ordinary dragon. He had wings as black as night and golden eyes that reflected every wound he had suffered. He was born from the fire of pain, but in that fire, Sem had found refuge. Only she could approach him, touch him, speak to him. They were one: she carried her broken heart on her chest, he protected it with his flames.
For years, Sem and the dragon watched over the void. No one came. No one sought. No one dared.
Sem, in the silences as long as winters, felt fragile.
Fragile like an antique glassware forgotten in the attic: transparent, luminous, yet a whisper was enough to crack it.
Only the dragon knew how much his veins still trembled, how many times he had clenched his fists to keep from collapsing, how many times he had searched for a hand that wasn't there.
Until, one day, something Sem had only dreamed of happened. A man walked through the forest. The wolves followed him, the shadows tried to stop him, but he walked as if he knew the way. He wore a cloak torn by time, and Sem—when he saw it—recognized what he had already seen in his mind long before: his back.
"It's him," he whispered to the dragon.
The dragon, for the first time, lowered its wings. It looked at the man and did not roar. Sem emerged from his silent lair, and when their eyes met, it was as if time bent to give them another chance.
The man didn't flee from the dragon. Instead, he spoke to it. He told of his journey, of his wounded heart, of the life he wanted to rebuild with someone who had the strength to look beyond the scars. And Sem knew: it was him. The man his heart had waited for, even when hope seemed dead.
Then the forest changed. The flowers began to grow again. The sky opened in flashes of light. The dragon spread its wings, and with a cry that made the mountains tremble, it burned away the last shadow surrounding Sem's heart.
From that day on, Sem and the man lived alongside the dragon, who was no longer just the guardian of pain, but also of rebirth. Their home became a beacon for those who were lost, for those who had suffered, for those who still believed in miracles.
And every night, Sem fell asleep in his arms, while he whispered to her, hugged her tightly, and told her once again, like a fairy tale, of their first meeting in the forest.
And in the warmth of his voice, Sem found peace.
“Because sometimes, love only comes when you learn to dance with your dragon.”
TO LEONARDO
I saw you before I even knew you.
I dreamed of you when I didn't even know you existed.
You came when I no longer believed a love like this could exist—and you stayed.
You didn't save me…you reminded me who I was.
And with you, every day, I choose life.
You are home.
You are my truth.
- Ubi Tu Ibi Ego -
Sem
