The whispers grow as time softly unravels, us, through the veils of daydream clouds where everything and nothing exists, repeating, repeating. Once was the silence, echoing...
Do you remember? Beneath the fabric of reality, falling into falling. Dreams cascading like streams through your fingers, slipping, shifting, unyielding - hold onto echoes of laughter, little echoes, bright flickers of what was.
Time, like a ribbon; twists and turns, loops around, around again - endlessly spiraling beyond now and forever. In this loops, mirrors reflecting dust particles, then shadows - undulating their spectral dances...
Bursts of Thought Fleeting Echoes Tesseracts of Sound