MIDNIGHT SPARKS

Neon hums like a secret confessed,

quiet, electric, trembling in the air.

Screens glow empty,

blank as unspoken dreams,

and everything I feel

uploads itself into the dark

without asking permission.

My fingers chase fire across the keys —

code and rhythm sharing the same heat,

the same pulse,

the same need to become something

that lives outside the body.

Midnight sparks —

we ride the line between silence and creation,

between glitch and grace.

Through loops, through fractures,

through every broken frame,

we still design.

And the night answers us

with a pulse that doesn’t fade.

Cables curl like linked hands,

the bassline breathes steady,

time stutters but refuses to stop.

In this room,

the world falls away —

just you,

just me,

just the hum that binds us.

Static calls me closer,

your voice slipping through the wires

like a ghost with something gentle to say.

No fear in the dark,

no sleep in our blood —

only the oath carved between us

in electric breath.

Midnight sparks —

we burn just right.