A moment drifts, inhaling stillness... as sunlight fractures upon a whisper's edge.
There, in the dusky corner of perception, a dream curls into shape: tiny shards blend, listen...
Words not spoken, still thrum like a pulse, vibrating secrets beneath the moonscape.
Every breath between heartbeats, clouds shuffle across the sky, crimson and gold, splattered with shadows of invisible canvases—
Does the cloud hum?
The barest touch, nostalgia grips like an echo, unfurling from a long-lost side alley,
*Can you feel it?*
In the spiral of nightfall, spirals reverberate within loops unbroken—
distant lullabies linger, cast shadows of your own breathing...
the clock ticks in forgotten languages,
wander deeper.