Fervor

Snapshots are tokens of frozenness.
Entities evolve into other beings. In
space between words, subtexts gleam
contrary sunbeams.

In the projection of infinite perfections,
I wonder what veils your persona. You
enter by invitation. I lower my vallation
to be snared for a while.

Candles draft the final chapter. Like them,
our tie-up is transient. If wishes had their
way, we would have met in a memory book.
There is more to us than mal du pays.