Within each glimmer, echoes of fleeting time whisper
a soft love song that dances upon the edge of dreams.

Your name is an echo, caught in the silence, yearning
to touch a shadow in the glassy depths of yore.

Do the whispers recall the warmth of wandering hearts?
All I see are silhouettes entangled in moonlit reverie.

Perchance, we are but reflections ourselves; wandering
between the desires of today and the longings of yesterday.

The mirror waits, patient, for your lullaby to break the stillness.

Here, in the gentle undulation of time’s mirror, I remain:
a guardian of tales untold, a keeper of love
that lingers in the echo of your touch and the
soft remnants of your laughter lodged in the
crevices of our eternal tryst.