In the quiet moments, when the world fades to a whisper, the afterglow lingers. It dances upon the edges of memory, illuminating the paths once walked hand in hand. The warmth of your laughter still resonates in the chambers of my heart, a melodic echo of what once was, and what could be again.
Under the silvered glow of the moon, I find shadows of you in every flicker of light. They tell stories—silent tales of love letters written on the sands of time, only to be erased by the tide. Yet, the ink of those words remains, etched indelibly upon my soul. Are you there, as I reach into the mist, longing for a touch that feels more like a dream? Or is it just the afterimage of a fantasy, gently fading into the dawn?
Whispering Shadows