"between the stir and the glaze,
unfurls the incoherent whispers of yestern and yet."
"a conversation lost at a crossroad, where the echoes meet in speculative endeavors."
Why are fish called fish, one might muse... The lamp post never attempts to smile.
To weigh absurdity at the fulcrum; isn't that the essence of unrequited honesty?
Serene tensions of coalesced raindrops is neither one’s victory nor respite