In the quiet corners of our minds, where the ugliest truths reside, passion flickers like the dying embers of a once-great fire. We steal glances at eternity, only to find it mirrored in broken promises and unspoken words.
Touch me in this fleeting moment, where time is neither friend nor foe, and let the gesture linger like perfume on a forgotten scarf. In the now, we dance to the rhythm of reality, entwined with dreams that fade into the morning light.