Beneath a sherbet sky where the buildings hum, And cotton clouds drift like a soft tuned drum, Two figures pause on a hilltop blue, Their hearts stitched close, held in hue. The city before them, a pastel bloom, Where every window glows like a whispered room. Turrets in taffy, domes in delight, Colors that sing into the wool woven night. Their coats are quiet, their gaze is wide, Wrapped in wonder, side by side. No need for words when the skyline sighs, In spun sugar pinks and lullaby skies. This is love without noise, without rush, without end The kind made of silence and being and blend. Not just held by each other, but by the view A world that breathes softly, and holds them in hue. Made with love and wools