In the crevices of mid-summer night, when the scent of jasmine clings to the breath of the moon, I placed my deepest desires into the folds of a letter, whispering invocations that only starlight could braid.
The words were inked in twilight hues, gilded by the soft light of love's gravity wells. They spiraled through the universe to find their resting place in your heart, or so I hoped—forever lost in the trance of longing.