In the depths where lights bends, two beings breathe in rhythm. One carries the dark within it, the other carries the light, but the line between them has stopped meaning anything.
Around them drift small worlds, spirals that remember, bubbles that wait, colors that ask no permission. everything moves slowly here, as if time were measured in pulse rather than hours.
They look at each other without owning each other. They grow through one another without losing themselves.
This is not two becoming one. It is two who have learned how to stay close.
