In the tender grasp
of twilight's embrace,
she, ethereal as the evening's bride,
arrives, her presence a whispered sigh,
within the sacred sanctuary
of my mind's refuge,
she kindles the flames of dreams,
invisible hands, gently guiding,
in moments heavy
with the weight of existence,
eyes brimming with the unshed sorrows of the soul,
in fleeting whispers,
love's tender caress brushes...