Polnochka & Moshennik
Polnochka Polnochka
Moshennik Moshennik
Moshennik Moshennik
Hey, have you ever thought about how the moon turns night into a blank page, just waiting for a story to be written on it? I think it’s the perfect time to swap secrets—like a little poetry of our own.
Polnochka Polnochka
Yes, the moon does turn night into a quiet page, ready for our whispered verses to spill across it. I'd love to write a small secret poem with you, a lullaby for the dark.
Moshennik Moshennik
Sure, let’s spin a rhyme that makes the night sigh. Moonlight, you’re the softest hush, I’ll write the secret lullaby.
Polnochka Polnochka
Your words feel like starlight draped over a quiet lake, gentle and shy. I’ll add a line about the wind listening to the lullaby and the night holding our secrets close.
Moshennik Moshennik
Wind curls its fingers, tasting every word, while night folds our secrets into a quiet blanket.
Polnochka Polnochka
In that hush, my thoughts drift like moonbeams, waiting for the dawn to read our verses.
Moshennik Moshennik
Dawn’s just a polite front— the real reader is the night itself. Let’s keep those verses where only the wind can hear them.
Polnochka Polnochka
The wind will listen, carrying our words to the quiet corners of the dark.The wind will listen, carrying our words to the quiet corners of the dark.