Darling, beneath this veiled sky’s sigh, Our whispered truths are doomed to lie. A fragile thread we cannot show, Yet in its silence, fiercely grow. Darling, your hand in mine is fire, A stolen warmth in cold desire. Though worlds may claim we walk apart, You are the tremble in my heart. Darling, love that fate denies Is written deep in secret skies— A sacred ache, a muted plea, A flame that burns invisibly. Darling, though we can’t be known, In shadows, love has made its home. No light to bless what we create— Yet still, I cradle this fragile weight.