Love ends when poetry surrenders its ink to the fading light of eyes. It retreats, like a weary traveler, from the once vibrant gaze that held galaxies within its depths. The verses, once woven with stardust, unravel into whispers lost in the wind. Windows, once portals to shared sunsets and whispered secrets, now stand as mere frames—cold, transparent barriers. The stars, once constellations of promises, shrink into distant dots, their luminance dimmed by the passage of time. Dreams, once bridges between our waking hours, now carve an empty space—an interval where longing echoes. The warmth of touch becomes a memory, … Continue reading When Love Becomes a Memory