In the quiet corner of yesterday’s colors, soft rays bath the dust-motes in a golden ether that seems promising, deceptive in its quiet lucidity. Here, a forgotten echo of twilight dances.
Lucid dreams scattered like paper leaves across a lingering morning haze. The once vivid details—faces, atmospheres, unsaid confessions fading into ephemeral shades.
It was on a Tuesday, perhaps a Thursday redolent of mid-week suspension, thoughts cocooned in silken threads of introspection.
Wander Deeper