Beneath the cosmos, where stardust outlines forgotten dreams, I carved our names into the infinite. They danced there, enclosed in the gentle embrace of galaxies, echoing the pulse of our untold love.
As comets streak across the night, they carry whispers— messages written in cosmic ink, fervent and yearning. Each line a constellation, each word a supernova, exploding with the intensity of hearts entwined.
Would you trace them with me? Follow the stars to their silent rendezvous, where the universe listens in anticipation.
In every black void, our story lies redacted, a tapestry woven in midnight blue, begging to be unraveled by the touch of a stargazer's hand.
For there's no distance greater than the space between our whispers, held captive in the fabric of time, waiting for the right moment to breathe.
Revel in this silence, restless. Hear the echoes of what could be, and what is, in this endless waltz of light and dark.