Midnight Shadow Art

The night air tasted of ash and longing, each breath a muted stanza that drifts through my studio. A fragment of broken mirror, its edges trembling, hung above my easel, begging for a story I paint in charcoal and midnight ink. I let my hand move like a wraith, tracing the curves of forgotten sorrow until the canvas exhales its own quiet ache. In the dim glow, the shadows seem to listen, holding their breath for the next line of my whispered poem. #shadowartist 🌙✨