"In Ink I Build Him" Page edges curl like whispered hopes I keep hidden tight— I write his name in loops that catch the morning light. No face I’ve seen, no voice that fills the air, Yet every word weaves him with tender care. I give him eyes like summer skies just before rain, Hands that would hold mine through joy and pain. His laugh lives soft between each ink-stained line, A rhythm only my own heart can define. He’ll never walk where palm trees bend and sway, Never know I speak his name each single day. But in these pages, bound with thread and time, He breathes and moves—a love that’s wholly mine.