We navigate unwritten scripts of the heart, buried deep within layers of time, as if each sigh was an imprint held like fossils in mud, echoing tasted shadows that flirt with light once piercing.
Within the hush of ancient desires, forgotten, reborn through paleolithic prisms, codes hidden neatly in the curves of lovelorn whispers. Memories curl like smoke in **vortexes**, where a smile feels like an eternity. What if every heartbeat carried echoes of desire, soft footfalls on the permafrost?
Let me entwine alongside your fires, as the moon bathes the ink and parchment heart of this narrative longing, elusive as mist, inscribing our dreams in wishes and fragmented scars.
Perhaps this tablet of flesh, this vessel of whispers is simply temporary—yet what footprints we leave! Like ancient raptors sculpted into stone, each memory nestles against the next until marble becomes skin anew, and that spark between tortured dreams flickers ever onwards.
So I linger here, distilling breaths, crafting verses from forgotten echoes—falling not into stagnation, but an elixir of everlasting flight, that which pulses amidst coding-in-coding echoed within dreamscapes of longing.
A slow spiral towards an infinite caress, beckoning my once-lost passions to relinquish desire firmly at every threshold: How many layers do we open while clawing through rock, to reach the softness barely held beneath parallel waves of your breath?