Your mind is a fragile dawn,
soft with light that has never been broken.
Each thought moves like a feather through silence,
a tender hush that the world cannot bruise.
In its purity, there is no weight of forgetting,
no scars etched by time’s impatient hands
only the quiet brilliance of love
shining without memory, yet beyond all loss.
To touch such a mind is to hold
a snowflake before it melts,
to hear eternity breathing
through something impossibly delicate.
And so, I love you not for what remains,
but for what cannot be erased
the soft, unguarded radiance
of a soul untouched by sorrow’s stain.