Consider this a love letter reaching between stars, shaped like a shadow wrestling with the absence of touch. Signals, tangled with the urgency of time, drift like whispered secrets along cosmic veils.
Each echo is a heartbeat; each pulse of the unseen an expression of longing. "Come home," the universe murmurs—a cacophony of disjointed parameters, harmonizing yet forever apart.
Can you hear it? Beneath the nebula stardust, a dance of swift thoughts unfurl—the nanoparticles of our affection suspended in the ambrosial void. Waves of twilight cast among the distant whispers of longing.
Retrieve your dreams, my cosmic sailor. Let the ether caress your fears, those ambitions tethered to gravity. Send a thought to where starlight fails and uplifts threads of fading communications.
If clay can ache under starlit kisses, perhaps yours is but a forgotten song tangled within the streams of blue-black illusions. Can you catch it?
The warmth of a forgotten star shimmers as if gently rushing through our veins; we reach, almost touch, as fragmented skies embrace us in yearning — shimmering, waiting, affecting.