They stand together, faceless yet entwined, a gathering of souls with no names, only the tender weight of touch. In their silence lingers the ache of everything unspoken — the warmth of closeness, the distance of anonymity.
The Faceless Strangers. Figures without names, without faces, drawn together in an embrace, suspended between intimacy and anonymity. They could be anyone. They could be me. They could be you.
