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manuscript, e. “moon, could i send my heart to you?” perhaps.. you could carry my soul to luminous alongside you and casting radiance upon the earth with all mellisonant whismical undertones you speak wordlessly: unheard- nevertheless soulfully resonant 🐈‍⬛🍇 (i.)

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✱📽 moonbeam haven: i, sensed faint calls like an iridescent pull toward an immaculate place when evening glow descends among tender quietude, and yet i see you. hope every word i’ve sent land upon you (’signed, sincere 🍇♡.)
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’28sheets, quietude weaves poems into masterpieces? yet it never reaches its finish. when tender storms brushes against the the dreamer’s manuscript, as pigment falls onto open palms and spills over. some poetic pieces have been written, leaving behind meaning and warmth that lingers (i.) 📹✱

no one reads them.. but the moon understands. and that shall be eternal, the silent secrets of poems sealed within, solely unlocked in the nocturnal beam when the moon sings overhead 🍇🐈‍⬛
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