Beneath ephemeral whispers, the stars accumulate stories. A tapestry of light and shadow, woven by hands unseen. Each twinkle an echo of a forgotten song, resonating in the void where silence reigns.

Sometimes, as night wraps around the world, we pause. We let the gravity of the grin seep into our skin, an invitation to ponder. To reflect on paths untraveled, on constellations born from dreams rather than the cosmos' decree.

A dissonance arises, between our heartbeat and the stars' slow waltz. A harmony of contradictions, where certainty succumbs to wonder. Every glance upwards leaves us altered, as if we've brushed against eternity's edge.