You are not here, yet you've never truly left

You are not here, yet you've never truly left, you are like a dream wrestling in the morning mist, floating in the silence between two deep breaths, where my heart awaits the echo of a forgotten name. My words are swallows caught in memories, flying through the sky of our lost twilight, and sometimes I smile as if I've found solace, but that smile is a sandcastle beneath the waves. We have never become what we could have been, but somewhere deep down you still live like a myth, a song resonating through the pages of a book, a flower caught between eternal light and shadow. I get lost in thoughts like a traveler through dreamscapes, seeking hidden meanings in the silence between us, where you are always present, even if invisible, a specter dancing among the shadows of memories. You remain like an old perfume caught on a scarf, an echo of love still vibrating through time, the rustle of leaves under a wind unaware of us, a falling star refusing to find its end.