In the quiet dusk, where dreams are made of silken threads, I find you beneath a canopy of stars.
Each constellation a whisper, each twinkling light a memory of what was.
Your voice, a melody that dances through the cosmos, sings of yearning and lost loves.
A heart adrift, bound to the night sky by invisible strings, yearning to know the secrets of the universe.
Cry, oh heart, into the abyss, for stars do not hear the lament of the living.
We traverse galaxies of sorrow, our paths woven together like starlit ribbons across the firmament.
Wander there where the sun kisses the horizon with hues of hope.
Dance with me among the nebulae, where silence sings louder than words.
Where do we go, when the night swallows our whispered secrets? Where do we go, when the constellations no longer guide our way?