Embers in the Static Glow

The stars align like dust on an old guitar. We trace the grooves where light

and shadow are. No maps to guide, just whispers in the dark.

A cord that bends the highway through the spark. Your pulse became the drum I

march upon. The neon fades, but sunrise lingers on. We traded fear

for fireworks undone. Now every breath, a bridge to someone. We are the

embers in the static glow. The silent hum that rivers never know.

When time dissolves, like salt beneath the tide. We'll dance, where echoes turn

to fireflies. Though the rising notes to syrup in our