In Pursuit of The Tantalizing Angle

As the sun bows to twilight, caress the angle between dreams and whispers, just where fog embraces the earth with a kiss. Walk seven silences northeast of forgotten yesterdays, past the lampposts that blink in Morse code just for you.

Never detour past the heart-shaped puddle—its depth is unraveled in lovesick sonnets. Find the leaning shadow of a grinning willow, and beneath its smile, the echoes of unopened letters await your tender touch.

Chase Whispers
Eternal Journeys