In the reflection of a cloudy whisper, I find your face melted into the mist. It is there we met, where shadows waltz on the edge of a dream.
Your voice, tender and faint, lingers like vapor, refracted through the prism of a funhouse sky. Oh how it sings, a symphony of silence!
Do you see? Follow the echoes, and perhaps the stars will guide us home.
We are mere specters, adrift on this canvas of twilight, seeking warmth in the halos of the moonlight’s embrace. Embrace the mirage, let it fool your heart for a while.