In the moonlit reverie, the heart breathes softly, an ephemeral echo in the boundless sea. Each pulse a ripple across the cosmic pond, each breath a whisper within the hollow caverns of our woven consciousness. Threads of silk and shadow intertwine.
An ornate lattice we call our own, built upon the tongues of poets and the cries of forgotten muses. Here, beneath the cooling caress of forgetfulness, we lay, cradled by the ancient knowing of the stars.