I dream of you in quiet hours,
A secret place where my heart sours.
Your glance, your voice, your gentle way,
Leaves traces that will not decay.
We walk our lives, yet somehow near,
A whispered bond that feels sincere.
I do not know what this can be,
Just that you live inside of me.
Though words may falter, hearts can speak,
In fleeting moments, soft and meek.
A touch of meaning in every glance,
A silent rhythm, a quiet dance.
We both belong to other lives,
Yet something here quietly survives.
A feeling neither asked to name,
But glowing still, a secret flame.
