MICROTALES 2 | ✔

#67

If he was the setting Sun, she was the budding night. They're like the cursed lovers who don't have time to bid their farewells, yet they yearn for each other. Every evening, in the short time they co-exist, they speak with their eyes in silence, in the language of love. He transfers his light to her, while she heals his wounds. And for those few euphemeral moments, they eagerly wait everyday.