In the gentle sigh of the morning breeze, echoes of your laughter dance upon the dew-kissed petals, a memory woven into the fabric of dawn¹. The earth remembers your touch, not with pain, but with the sweet ache of longing that time cannot erase².
Beneath the arching willow, shadows intertwine as though recounting tales of a love that dared to defy the heavens. Each rustling leaf a silent witness, each broken twig a testament to passion unrestrained³.
When the twilight pulls its curtain over the world, I find solace in the stars that mirror your eyes, twinkling with secrets of their own, a cosmic dance in the solitude of night⁴.
Let the faint traces of your spirit linger, like the soft brush of a lover's hand against a waltzing flame, reminding me that some encounters are destined to be felt, not seen.