She speaks with a tenderness that cradles each word, as if she holds love itself within her mouth. This love, delicate and precious, is like a fruit ripening with every whispered syllable, or a daughter nurtured with every breath. Her words are a gentle caress, a promise of the love she carries, ready to be born from her lips, unaware of the night that surrounds her.

For a woman who is truly loved, nightfall never comes. Her world is illuminated by the warmth of affection, a perpetual twilight where shadows cannot linger. In her presence, time stands still, and the darkness is banished by the light of her love.

© Beatriz Esmer