Member-only story
A Dance Between Reality and Reverie
The Unwritten Poem and the Unspoken Words
I ache to be the enigmatic whisper that winds its way through the labyrinth of your existence. Each evening, as the sky dons its velvet robe, you murmur the words that are the ink to my unwritten poem. It is a poem so compelling it makes even the dreams that unfurl in the dark pause to listen.
As morning light splinters through the horizon, my smile becomes the first brushstroke on the canvas of your day. I want to be the elusive fragrance you can’t quite place, the fleeting shadow that dances beyond your peripheral vision, the tantalizing mystery you can’t help but ponder.
In the gallery of your thoughts, let me be the unfinished masterpiece that keeps you coming back, leaving you yearning for the next brush stroke, the verse's next line. I want to be the riddle you can’t solve, the question that lingers long after it’s been asked.
So, let us engage in this delicate dance, my muse, where each stolen glance is a step, and every unspoken word is a turn. Let our connection be the melody that never resolves, a haunting tune that lingers in the space between reality and reverie.
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