Under a velvet sky, we drift like phantoms,
silver dust in our veins, no tomorrow in our eyes.
Your breath a cold comet, carving hush across my skin,
constellations collapsing into the hush between our sighs.
We are the echo of stars that forgot how to burn,
lovers stitched from shadow and aurora’s last thread.
Hold me until the universe forgets its own name,
and the night folds us into the cradle of the dead.