When shadows play symphonies upon the silence of time, echoes form in the interstice, the gaps between breath and stillness. Each note an eternity, composed in black ink upon the absent horizon.
dream/ rhythms unveiled, a transformation whispered amidst the void. Was not the beginning a whisper? An etching in grand symphonies, composed when the stars conspired in their solitude.
Behold the conversation between shadows, their silent allegiances and transient oaths, marked only by the galaxies' apathetic waltz across the night.