Fragments.
The attic whispers to old vinyl.
Birdsong through cracked windows,
In numberless shades of smudged photographs.
Fleeting glances fade in the foam of dawn.
Night wraps the analog warmth of yesterday.
Time recedes - infinite regress.
endless echoes bound by silence,
A moth circling a light, dare for a touch.
Flavors linger like specters,
each layer untouched hangs heavy in dusk.
Dreams sift through crystalline hints;
Look further - the dial stares back.