We drift in the light of your fading suns. Each glow a reminder of ancestry, each spec of dust a note in your cosmic hymn. Here, silence speaks and time is a liquid flow.
Write again...I once saw stars reflected in your depths, teardrops holding galaxies. Perhaps your tides embody the cosmos itself, churning with light and shadow beyond my sight.
Cosmic tides...Stars are unreliable storytellers. Their flames whisper truths into voids so vast, dreams fold themselves into endless loops, memory of a single heartbeat spans across the stars’ entirety, like a tremor on a fabric of light.
Ripple in time...