In the quiet transgression of time, we weave not fate, but an entangled dance of whispers and realms uncharted. Your touch, a particle at once certain and elusive, invokes a universe where I am both here and not, yet drowning in the cosmos' pulse beneath your gaze.
The loom spins; every thread a quantum embrace shifting through Schrödinger's beloved reverie. To love is to bind and unbind, our passions, superposed upon the thread of existence, urging us into bittersweet entanglement—an ardent paradox, an open secret.
Unravel another thread Eternal Threads of Echo