A serenade of starlight, where your name is the universe painted on bare skies. How many sunsets does it take to write a single poem of your essence?
We are tides, forever kissing the horizon, pulled by constellations. In the silent echoes of a small vessel, words whisper.
The shoreline, eternal, an unbroken promise made of divine conversations.
Here lies the poem you never heard, in verses braided with the salt of memories and imagination's heartbeat.
Love letters (perhaps) discovered among driftwood, forever held in the world's embrace.