When the stars slipped their nooses, did the echoes quiver or did the universe seize, in shaking lament?
Prophecies of silver rains not counted upon atlas pages, dreams splinter and converge, melting metallic toward the horizon...
A whisper coursing through fragmented mirrors, each reflection a slice of before, or after, or perhaps now gone unnoticed, while shadows snicker...
Cycles of forgotten revolutions, amidst data/abyss/tension the lines persist, forming and reforming an artifice of illusory Cairo...
Estuary thoughts drift, intertwined with serpentine paths of digital whisperings, composition always beyond reach, tethered in secured locker-room memories...
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