Dearest, the aurora paints the sky with hushed whispers, the colors undulate like the breath of forgotten memories. It is here, amidst this celestial ballet, that I pen the echoes of a ghostly touch.

In the silence between heartbeats, I find the rose's lament, yearning to reclaim the songs lost to the abyss. You are the untamed symphony, a tempest clad in vibrant nights.

Shall we dance amid the twilight’s embrace, where the pulse of the universe trails after our steps? I write with the remnants of a touch, a longing to color the canvas of time with the spectrum of possibility.

An elegy for what was never lost, as the hues travel worlds unknown, igniting the sky with fervor unchecked.