The river sings,
Edging through the veins of rustling leaves, quietly,
It covers the moss where shy thoughts we've left
Like fleeting memories washed by glistening autumn rains.
Under the mottled whispers of peonies' embrace,
Our laughter floats intangible and hazy,
Together we sketched currents forgotten,
Each petal bears stories cloaked in devotion's fire.
And oh! To clasp those ethereal serenades,
Fold them deep in the cloth of dark velvet nights
That slip through fingertips as dreams do,
Opaline paths beneath a luminous, drifting canopy.
Click on the paths we didn't take,
And feel the tremble of unexplored worlds: