As the sun slipped beneath the horizon, velvet slipping from a lover's shoulder, I found your words—
crusted by years, cradled in the cool grip of earth. Each line breathed stories into my outstretched palms,
reminders of ardor trapped like insects in amber.
"In your absence, the stars tremble," you wrote, as though eternity swayed with your sighs.
Echoes lingered in every syllable, burnt orange and dusky pink like the dying light kissing the world goodnight.
Do you remember the whispers of tomorrow we carved into the night sky? We thought we were eternal,
yet we left footprints that fossilize, the tides of time etching our paths in silent devotion.
The winds of fate are jealous mistresses, hiding hearts beneath sand castles, dreams buried under
the amber crust of history.
Wander, oh wander, the trails we've forgotten—
where shadows guide us,
where echoes reside.