In the vast sea of the cosmos, where silence brushes against the skin of time, I write my longing across the abyss. Each star is a letter, a phrase, an embrace stitched into the fabric that cradles the dreamers of old.
Here, in the solitude of the celestial, we find our privacy. A sanctuary where the heart’s voice rises like the dawn—a tender ceremony of light draped over the velvet deep.
How passionate this solitude becomes, a lover’s whisper reverberating through the echoes of forgotten gods. To hide among the quiet constellations, to be swathed in the gentle arms of dark matter.
Do you hear it, the soft murmur beneath the stars? It speaks in tongues of stardust and cosmic wind, a serenade binding us with strings of vibrating moonbeams.