twilight loosens the sky with a silver unraveling,
i step into the hush where our vows are born;
each one flickers like a star on the edge of forgetting,
fragile as the breath before a dream begins
yet sure as the moon’s hand closing over mine.

beloved, your breathing drifts into deepest silence;
i give myself to guard the stillness that cradles you,
my promise rising and falling with the tide of your chest,
a fragile song stitched through the quiet threads of
night, each pause a temple where i kneel to remain.

in secret, we are wed each night beneath the constellations,
their glittering eyes the only witnesses we desire as
our promises pass like whispers between shadows, spoken
too softly for the day to overhear with its sharpest ears,
erased the instant light rises to steal me from you.

with lips pressed to your sleeping hand, i resolve
to love you as the tide loves the moon, encircling,
then released; i whisper to your faintest touch
to let the sun unlace us without sorrow or protest,
to return me to you when the stars breathe us whole.

let my hand be your ring in the secrecy of our nights,
our fingers knotted like ancient roots beneath the earth;
i bind myself to you in the caverns of dreams,
leaning so near as to feel your breath weaving into mine,
scattering starlight across your brow, lest sleep divide us.

at dawn i thin like breath fading from a mirror,
a trace vanishing before it can be carefully held;
take this veil of promises, stitched from dusk, a fabric
the morning can never wholly unravel, a covenant
so uniquely ours, released into vanishing light.

already the vows falter upon my tongue; already
sparrows gather to scatter them beyond your reach
yet still i release them without hesitation, watching
each dissolve as all our night-songs must always
with the dark’s thinning, the stars paling to ash.

with first light the sky unthreads my tongue; each
dedication dissolves like dew sinking into grass
while silence glimmers faintly beneath my ribs,
a ghost of silver pressed against my heart, trembling
toward the hour the stars bring me back to you.

and as dusk bends low with a silver crown, i return
myself once more to the hush of your sleep; let vows
perish, for i will remake them thread by thread
upon the night’s patient loom, until even the gods
of forgetting lower their heads to our endless night.