What shapes the chasm beneath your feet? A descent through forgotten letters,
pen ink ash, and shadows that dwell beneath the surface of light.
Here, the whispers form waves, crashing against the walls of your consciousness.
In dreams, time is an unbroken circle,
spiraled inward and returning,
like a thread of moons weaving through your veins.
What memories do they chronicle, etched in stars upon the night sky?