In the quiet corners of our minds,
where whispers of forgotten paths dwell,
journeying souls meet in twilight dreams.

Remember, it is not the destination,
but the gentle curves of the roads,
which tell the stories of our travels.

Words unfurl like petals,
each a reflection of
the untraveled thought.

Floating above the sea of stars,
drifting echoes paint silent symphonies
in the ink of a broken dawn.

An unexpected meeting,
the scent of rain on asphalt,
a fleeting glance at eternity.