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Perhaps, in this magical disarray of epochs and galaxies, we were dancers upon quasar waves, partners caught in a fusion of fiery stardust. Every kiss a supernova; every embrace an orbit around some unknown sun. Can words even capture the distant pulse of what we once were?
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Across the astral plains, I wander, seeking echoes of your dreams which shimmer like distant quasars. The unsung colors of our syllables mingle and mix, forming a brushstroke across the endless void. Perhaps one day, amidst fragments of bright ruins, I'll find us reborn—winged seraphs cradled on the soft shoulders of dawn.
Take a leap through a Nebula