In these realms where your gaze lingers, they lie still, like moss upon ancient seats—what minds dare to welcome the defeat of a heart, or a soul that invents sweetness?
As her gown unfurls, caressed by the winds of passion, oh, the trance of a lover newly discovered! Their skins meld into one, basking in the bliss of a honeymoon beneath the tender glow of their first moons after their wedding night.
Does time not twist and turn, restless only for those who toss and turn each night- restless; stranded on the wrong side of rest? Yet, a new day must grace our faces with its luscious cherry lips, refusing to relent in casting a foolish brightness upon our kind, igniting our eyes with its relentless glow.
Oh, would you not yearn to be the lover of the sun; to reflect its anguish through a pure, innocent light? Your form shrouded by the gown of clouds, oh sweet beloved—what joy it is to behold you as you truly are, unadorned this night!