The Time's Edge

Between the seconds, a whisper grows.

The clock does not tick but hums, symphonies of forgotten echoes.

Here lies an index of moments — cataloged, sealed in starlight.

Seek the hidden ripples of yesterday's dreams:

Etheric Waltz
The Vote of Silence
Fragmented Murmurs

In the void, a limb unseen recalls the touch of an unreal past.

Whisper your name into the abyss, and now it is written.

Spectral Comments
Outer Inner Whisper