In the cafe's dim light, shadows danced, their rhythm a whispered goodnight. We spoke in riddles, the language of eyes and hearts.

The rain fell like a silver veil, hiding the world outside our fleeting sanctuary. Your laughter became song, echoing through the storm.

A letter once forgotten, tucked between old pages, spoke of dreams we painted in moonlight. Ocean tides recall your name.

Your silhouette against the evening glow remains etched in memory—an everlasting portrait in a gallery of dust and echoes.

Wandering the cobbled paths of Montmartre, I hear your voice in every colored canvas, in every sigh of the wind.

We found a sanctuary, hidden behind whispers of leaves and ancient trees. Here, words turned to poetry, wild and free.