Whisper to the fragments, as they scatter across the surface,
a lullaby for the unbidden shadows. Step back. Way back,
until echoes of a past intertwine your present with a
fraying thread. And then, listen. The silence speaks.
To retrieve... ah, yes, the left hand, do not trust
the right, its intentions veiled in curtains of smoke.
Numbers, forgotten, are etched deeply and ripple like
concentric secrets. Feel the water, still. Feel it not.
An unknown path through the frost,
diagrams sketched upon skin, into skin, like ink.
Maintain the stare, unblinking, for the answers
are not answers but mirrors in themselves.
Link: into Pathway Morse
Follow through the arches: Cryptic Ciphers