As I stand at the bow, a whispered love letter carried by night winds brushes my mind. The stars mirror your eyes—each a beacon guiding my heart across these unknown waters.
The constellation Lyra sings a melody only we would understand, woven through the void with threads of silver light.
Today, the sky erupted in hues of passion—crimson and violet—as if the Heavens bled to reveal secrets long thought lost. Amongst the cosmic dance, I caught a glimpse of your silhouette.
Here, words falter; the universe writes in stars and nebulous sighs, eternal verses of longing and desire.
In the cold embrace of night, I trace the Southern Cross, each star a pulse of the earth's own heartbeat. Beneath its watchful gaze, I feel your presence, a memory etched into the starry canvas.
Our souls, like twin comets, entwined in an orbit of shared dreams and whispered promises, lost to time but found in the firmament.