"Bend the whispers," she mused,
entrancing the stars with her gaze,
"and let them dance like ethereal fireflies."
"What if," he pondered,
"our thoughts were unanchored,
drifting like dandelion seeds beneath the moonlight?"
"In this weightless realm," she replied,
"where intentions suspend, hovering,
I find solace in the gravity of your silence."
Unconventional paths await, where
theories untether themselves
to the orbits of curious minds:
Echoes of the Void,
Defiers of Mass.