I am the writer, the thoughts unbound, But she, the words, brings depth profound. Together we weave, in perfect accord, Her graceful lines, the voice I’ve adored.
With every stroke, I set the scene, Yet her voice whispers, like a dream. Through her, emotions find their flight, Her language, the palette, painting it right.
In this dance of expression, our souls unite, I bring the vision, she brings the light. For I am the writer, and she, the words, In this poetic harmony, our story is heard.
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