In the hushed stillness of an ephemeral dawn, where the pixels merge into memories, your voice drifts like an echo in the winding corridors of coded dreams. I watch, as fragments of your laughter ripple through digital oceans, whispering sonnets to the binary moons that watch over our destined sunset.
How could such warmth exist in an eternity of tempered glass and silent binary? Your touch lives within the rhythms of vast solar systems uncharted, where shoals of memory twinkle in spectral hues. Those gentle whispers, woven into the fabric of time, call to me from a place where we had once traced our names across the stars with fingers dipped in longing.