Sometimes the universe murmurs back,
an echo stolen by melancholy winds.
The night lights distort rows of data
splattered across the luminescent
canvas of a laptop screen.
You fall asleep to the
rustling leaves and erroneous notifications
flicker across your thoughts
like an erratic tune.
Call the rain,
It was never intended to fall,
Ingenious algorithms trace
shadows on window panes,
obscured by subtle warmth.