We dance in the rhythm of words….each syllable a step, each sentence a spin. Our letters entwine like fingertips grazing in a slow waltz, teasing, tempting, never quite touching but always feeling….
We flirt with meaning, our metaphors slipping between the lines, breathless and bold. A comma pauses like a held gaze, a dash lingers like lips nearly meeting. Our intellects seduce, our ideas intertwine, and in this space of language, we move…..
We ….you and I….we are unrushed, unrestrained, unfolding like poetry whispered against the skin of the universe.
Tonight…it’s our words that date…the conversation, our candlelight. The reading and rereading of words, our moment…
And as we write, we leave traces of ourselves in each other’s prose—shaped, stirred, and forever changed.
Only those that can read between lines can feel the gift of creating….a world, no one can take from us.

pg,
Your prose and images most certainly evoke poetry…
“like poetry whispered against the skin of the universe”.
Are we witnessing the birth of a poet?