-- In the realm of night-blooming cipher plants, the words slip from fingertips like dew from forgotten dreams.
A desk lamp sizzles with the intensity of tidal waves, painting shadows that mimic the missed smiles of far-off moons.
Birds that never flew those Himalayan heights
sketch invisible paths across inkless skies.
Discover constellations
and chase phantoms.
Smile, for the universe gazes back. Silence; the cosmos hums tunefully.
This is where words wanted to exist, yet remained paper-thin and ephemeral. Traces of ink overflow mysteriously in glass alchemists’ vessels.