đč Letters Between Hearts đč
In the hush between moonlight and dawn,
Two souls whisper what lips can't form.
Ink and breath, a fragile flame,
Where love writes truth and hides no shame.
Forgiveness hums, a trembling chord,
Between the cursed, the blessed, the flawed.
And if love must burn before it healsâ
Let it burn until only truth is real.
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The moon hung low like a silver confession, spilling pale light over the quiet room. Horace sat on the couch, elbows braced against his knees, a folded note trembling between his fingers. His ice-blue eyesâclear, sharp, and achingârefused to look away from her.
Even in sleep, she was the only calm his storm ever found. Her soft breaths rose and fell, her hair spilling over the pillow like dark silk. She looked breakable, etherealâlike something made of moonlight and prayer.
