My Likelo -

She said it again. Louder this time. “My likelo.”

“My likelo,” she breathed.

Tears spilled down her cheeks. Because in that moment, she understood: the dream hadn’t been hers alone. The language of starlight had visited him too, in some other dream, some other night. And he had kept the word safe— protected it without knowing why —just as she had. my likelo