Shadows dance momentarily on the canvas of existence, fleeting in their weariness, harboring secrets gathered from long-lost whispers. They often echo an essence that escapes definition—mundane yet profound.
Within the crevices of twilight, when light fractures and bends, shadows emerge to clothe their truths in ambiguity. Each shadow cast, a pause—a silent remark on the interconnectedness of perception, memory, and time.
What activates a fleeting shadow? The flicker of an eye? A breath caught between heartbeats? Possibilities crack open like fragmented glass on the ground beneath forgotten frames of reference.
...melodies played in reverse...
You may venture into the formlessness of dreams, yet I must warn of echoes waiting to drown out certainty.
Or dwell in the nexus of the real within four corners of paradox and sometimes erase contrast.