Midnight Rose

In the velvet darkness, a face emerges, a canvas of porcelain, kissed by the shadows. Eyes closed, as if in reverie, the lips, a whispered promise, barely touch the roses that surround her. The red blooms, like secret keepers, guard the mysteries of the heart. In this tableau of beauty and silence, the light dances, a gentle lover, caressing the contours of a face that is both fragile and strong. Here, in this moment, time stands still, and all that exists is the gentle kiss of the roses on skin, a fleeting touch that speaks of eternity.