Where Time Stands Still

In that timeless realm, O Cosmic Sister, our love at the helm, where time stands still- our love becomes the canvas, the enzymes, the film. Each fleeting heartbeat -a brushstroke, ballast, as devotion paints the sky "magnifique", eternal hues, in her eyes, a sparkling dye, in divine critique. Forever entwined in the sacred weave, are we, pointed out accusingly- for our audacity of being, Wildren, free. Fabric of love’s tapestry stretching beyond reach, the cosmos in our conspirasea. She tosses her hair like a tidal bloom, cascading through moonlight's embrace, embracing his imaginuity. Each strand a whisper of secrets shared of space, a dance of shadows in the quiet night, scenting in front of his face. To implicate our souls waltzing in our amore', entwined like vines of image-traced, growing wild under the stars' watchful gaze, divine, wine. This celestial balance, a paradox of grace, shines here, impossibly, a beacon in the dark, echoes reverberate purple reveries - through boundless time, in everspark, soliloquy. “Fate’s forefather, the architect of dreams,” her voice, a melody, a soft caress, giving golden meaning to her means. Does she know the power of her woven words, her movement of swords? He wonders if he’s dreaming, caught in her wake, a tempest of wonder, her fluidity sketches contours on his soul, each curve a promise, a link unbreakable, plunder- unraveling currents of longing tear. Her levitation magnetism gravitation pulling him near, an everlasting tug-gondula through love's deep seas, seven thunders, O my Liege, she has pulled me under. A cosmic genesis, our entwined destinies, an aurora of fate lights our journey ahead, beaconing-hybrids true, tried. Lines of purpose etched in starlit skies, we traverse this dance of time, Forever woven together in this sacred realm, here, where moments pause, and love reigns supreme, love at the helm. Where time stands still, we, at our please, on our knees as we feel.