In the quiet before the feeling, a fuse is lit. This heart-shaped bomb, tender yet bold, erupts in a cascade of crimson whispers— tiny hearts flung skyward like confessions too powerful to contain. It’s love, not gentle, but glorious. A detonation of devotion, a burst of sentiment that refuses to stay silent.
Hang it where passion lives. Let it speak for the moments when words fall short and only art can echo the heart’s true explosion.