Will I see you again tomorrow?
in the soft echo of the breeze,
where dreams dare to be born,
and our bodies, under the moon, guide me.
Our secrets are silent whispers,
those furtive gestures, stolen from the wind,
a meeting of souls in the shadow of the sacred,
as time weaves us in its slow movement.
We both know it, in every heartbeat,
the sparks that sparkle from glowing gazes,
no better gaze flickers, my dear,
breaking the walls of distant instants.
Will it be tomorrow that I see you again?
with that air of promise that envelops us,
in the dance of love, in every dawn,
until the whisper of dawn reveals us.
