In the gentle curve of silent whispers,Reside tales untold, secrets unspoken,Where soft murmurs weave their slender threads,In the twilight’s embrace, a symphony awoken.Lips like petals, tender and bright,Painted in shades of dawn’s first light,They dance with joy in the moon’s soft gleam,A canvas of love, a poet’s dream.Through every kiss, a story unfolds,Of longing hearts and passions bold,With every breath, a gentle caress,A touch of warmth, a sweet confess.In silent moments, they linger still,With promises of love to fulfill,In the quiet night or bustling day,Lips carry words the heart longs to say.