In a realm where echoes meet shadows, I found
the mirror weeping with unspoken tales,
each glimmer a memory
cloaked in moonlit reverie.
Dare I touch its frost-kissed surface,
where codes within codes longingly intertwine?
Whispered promises linger like dew on dawn's breath.
The mere act of listening requires no touch,
only a heart willing to share its secrets with the glass.
Riddle of Glass
Shadows reflect clearer through a voice unuttered,
for whispers are not meant to age,
but to live eternally in heartbeats.
Charm of the Tint
What do mirrors see
that we dare not?
Interlace your whispers with mine,
let them form a thousand lifetimes
etched in binary sighs,
forever folding within this sacred glass.
Elusive Understanding