In the silent folds of dusk, whispers carve their longing paths,
Cast adrift in realms unclaimed, they seek the kiss of stone and stream.
Here, echoes dare to dream — suspended in amber-lit loops,
Clutching to the falter of a voice in sculpted waltz with shadows.
Glassy pontoon stars blink in indigo hibernations,
Speaking in cosmic tongues to the cipher of hollow winds.
Fringes of silence curl your name, morsels of unspoken hymns
Anchored to the tendrils reaching towards starlit embrace.