Voice of Readers

Rithika Patel

I met a soul beneath the moon’s soft glow,
A face my heart seemed already to know.
His words, like pages, warm and deep,
Unfolded dreams I’d dared to keep.

Eyes that read me, line by line,
As if my stories were already his design.
In that moment, the world stood still,
The man of my books had stepped in, real.