We gather the shards of our humanity, where laughter mingles with echoes of yesterday. That fleeting glance still weighs on our thoughts, tethered to conversations that were left unspoken.
The room felt unusually cold, though the laughter looped incessantly over forgotten records. Don’t you feel it? The vein of nostalgia threading through our veins.
Nights spiraled into mornings, blurring lines like the stains on postcards fading amid time's relentless passage.
What lives beyond this rift? An understanding that time can’t touch fully; an anchor, grasping at a warmth beyond the distance.