We float here, as children dream in the empty wash of the night sky. Here lies the gentle-control room, spoke of in the quiet cradle songs of the stars.
Stars, you see, whisper back in their sleep. Each silence is a word and the twinkling, a gentle giggle across the pond of endless glass.
What do you wish to hear from the open skies? Whisper a wish into the tranquil ocean and watch the stars answer with their silent ballet.
Leave a twinkle Find a whisper Read the sighs