Only those who have not yet met truly love each other

Only those who have not yet met truly love each other, Those who, in the early morning horizon, imagine themselves as kings and queens without sin, They dream in the secretive color of amethyst, hidden somewhere deep, Where the heart, intoxicated by the unseen moon, weaves its untouched desires. They are like two parallel universes, close but never destined to meet, In their cosmic dance, traversing unexplored, unembraced circles of stars, They look at one another, through a veil of comets, with hope in their eyes, Flashes of potential, of pure love, in the night where silence and mystery intertwine. Hands reach out towards the moon, the cutter of nights, grasping only dreams and echoes, In a phantom embrace, through which the celestial breeze passes, cold yet somehow hot, The longing for a kiss ungiven, under the fluttering eyelid of time that pulsates and waits, And unformed promises rise like smoke, dreaming of shapes, of completed contours. In this labyrinth of the unknown, where footsteps resonate like an ancient song, Lies the sweet elixir of mystery, sweetening every imagination, Thus, in the space between certain and possible, floats the scent of an unnamed love, As two souls seek each other among the stars and find each other in the unwavering moonbeams. They are like two butterfly wings haunting the gardens of evening in a seraphic hue, Touching only in the breath of wind vibrating with scents of jasmine and lavender, The purity of an unknown feeling follows its path in evanescent bites, And in the mystery that envelops them, the love born of the unknown seems eternal and holy. Therefore, true love ascends in universes waiting to be discovered, On unwritten book pages, in soundless melodies, it opens the way to infinite life, For the sake of imagining what could be, they remain truly in their shared longing, For in the unclear vision of beginnings, the incomprehensible possibilities of pure and undimming love are hidden.