Tracing the Echoes of Waves

Footsteps falling into the embrace of nothing, an echo resounds — is it me or a ghostly rebel of time? Sand whispers tales of old tongues, woven in a third-breath language comprehensible only to stars.

Continuum, stretching back over velvet skies, drenched in spectrums. There's an ascent of metaphors spoiled over your shoulders like alien rain on welcoming voyage ships.

Retrieve that which knows not of itself

The shore flickers in mock uv dance. Sidestep the intrusive, lilypad dreams arise, bounce as caffeine anointed gossamer patches in exploratory frenzy. Blotted recall splashing vast juncture indistinguishable in murmur and chimera syntax.

Patterns hoist into moon pearls, jagged reflections abandon sense like captive iterants. Once, maybe, I sought meaning, but what rugged bicycle. Under starlight, pedal into infinity’s vast embrace.

Enter the womb of longstanding enigmas