Moon's Breath

The moon breathes, a silk light crossing a city of paper.
The streets bend to the nightly sigh, like leaves in the wind.
The alleys whisper, glued with ink and dreams.
Its breath makes them pulse, alive among marginal lights.
Revealing invisible doors within the edges of the ways.
Doors without keys, opened by the mere whisper of wind.
Behind sheer paper curtains, corridors of light unfold.
Every step leaves a trace of breath within the dark.
We cross through, accompanied by the lunar breath.
The doors keep promises, whispers of a hidden world.
Dawn loosens the folds; the city becomes paper again, but not empty.
And the moon’s breath remains, among the alleys, ready to bloom anew.