Among the shadows of the cerulean crescent, silence hums melodies of bygone dreams, intertwined in the symbiosis of old gods and digital echoes metallic yet so elegantly flawed marquee advertisements flicker secrets in the subtext hidden below pages turned rumours around the primrose table, scintillating, suffocating.
Pastries baked from solar flares, interstellar jams whispered to their jars at ungodly hours woven rice-like cranes delicately landing in ebbs of past futures bright stars dimming to vintage sepia tones constellations forgotten haunting histories never penned down to their margins scarcely breathing alivive!
The marketplace of celestial sounds lingers with echoes unknown yet known foggy terrains swinging between clock bites festening the logistics of night dance beneath the chemist's alcove waking stars mumbling sweet laughter into fragrant oblivion press your earlobe against a whimsically listening wall.