The Melody Behind The Ginkgo Gates

The paper in my hand feels lighter than a breath, yet heavy with the promise of words unspoken. Here amidst the rhythmic repetition of vermilion pillars and stone steps, time slows its frantic city pace to match my heartbeat. I turn toward you—a smile blooming like cherry blossoms against the ancient wood—and wonder if this silence is merely waiting for your voice to break it.

You found me here where shadows dance soft as velvet; perhaps we both needed a sanctuary from concrete noise, but now that you're close enough to taste my perfume mixed with rain-washed air... maybe healing isn't solitary at all. Maybe love arrives not in grand gestures like fireworks tearing sky apart—but gently: wrapped around wrists holding poems written just for us.

Editor: Lyric