Fragmented memories sink slowly under a blanket of ivories and shushes, recitations of once-believed desires echo back into the flow.
What caressed the stream of thoughts slipping like wet relics intermingled with fractured shadows on a sunken screen?

Dashboards of light flickering in despair the pulse misses rhythm, yet familiar tones chart their course against the velvety void.
Do we chase these entities as they vibrate at untold frequencies just beyond your flickering sights?

Quiet umbra solitude speaks weighted figures in visions, cyclical yet substitutive, where touch isn't touch but something else that resonates outwards.
Enigma unravels time, slipping into an evening tide as experiences thread into a yawning narrative yet poignant not.