She hummed a tune of moonlit grace,
soft as whispers through the trees,
each note a thread of ancient tales
woven on the breeze.
Her eyes held storms and lullabies,
stars tangled in her hair,
she beckoned me with crooked grin—
a dare hung in the air.
“Tell me,” she said, “a tale of hearts,
of wishes never told,
a secret born from silent dreams,
or...
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