Memory shuffles around like the old ferris wheel at the noon market. Thoughts spin and return, nothing new and yet always different. It whispers dark space into color, painting melody in reverse:
Blue sings first, like a song on rewind. Followed by green, thawing the frosted morning with hints of spring. Then, there’s orange, warmer than the sun's last glimmer on a winter’s sleep. Golden yellow hums, timeless and soldered with moments caught between thoughts of future and past.