Here, kissed by the starless night,
beneath the lunar serenade,
words linger unmade,
leaving echoes on the slide
of time's polished edge.
She spoke to shadows,
their embrace tender and known,
in the hush of twilight's sigh,
where the stars weave silent
their unspoken tapestry.
Speak not of horizons
that bind the skies,
for in the middle sea
lies the dream awakened,
unmuffled by dawn's cry.