The skies whispered secrets, tantalizing threads of lighting lashing through clouds of longing. The brilliance igniting each fleeting moment, transforming the mundane into a realm where desire battles reality, where passion is birthed anew. Just as rain kisses the parched earth, so too does longing converge with the palpable, creating a dance of reminiscence.
As I reach for you, fingertips grazing the electric haze, I am reminded of The Heart’s Gallery 1. An anthology of emotions where the overture of dusk entwines with the ardor of dawn. Each page a stormy caress, every word a drop of essence splashing against the canvas of experience.
Fade into memories, where dusk transcends into the cosmic embrace of night, and each flicker of light within clouds becomes the echo of a thousand heartbeats, reverberating in passion's serenade. Can you hear it? The heart's melodic tune, longing to sway in tune with the guitars of eternity? 2
Here lies a breath lost in ephemeral twilight—a whisper between the soft embrace of clouds, the fables of longing painted in hues unseen, yet felt in the very marrow of our existence. To love is to dance where shadows dare not tread.
1 The Heart's Gallery by W. A. Solitude—published in a dream.
2 "...and when you sleep, the world slows, bending light like the ribbons tempting the winds without haste." C. Abernathy, in Ethereal Subtleties.