The mirror holds whispers of your gentle sighs, lost in a world where moonlight caresses the velvet air.
In quiet corners, I trace the shadows of your laughter, painting dreams with every fleeting reflection.
Do the echoes remember our dances in the twilight, where every step was a vow entwined with the stars?
Beneath the mirror's solemn gaze, I write letters to the past, each word a petal on the river of time.