The Hidden Kiss of the Clouds

Suspended light, they graze the silence,
clouds that whisper in the golden void,
on the peaks of dreams, a touch of trepidation,
that grazes the air, without making sound.
In a breath, they brush without touching,
like secrets that the sky decides to keep,
an invisible kiss painted among the clouds,
which only reveals itself to those who know how to listen.
They mount whispers of vapor and veils,
thrown high up, into the ecstasy of the unknown,
beyond limits, where the dream becomes a dollar,
remains an aura of peace in the heart of the sky.
And so silence dresses itself in hidden love,
unsaid, but felt between the clouds and the heart,
a soft kiss, between flight and desire,
that lives eternal on the peaks of the dream.