Muffled footsteps fade, receding—where do they go—are they mere figments—
lost in the tales told by shadows under our fleeting breath; a slice of time, suspended.
Why count the grains of sand when the hourglass has cracked?
Examine the taste of silver; retrieve the shred of incoming laughter searching for pudding—it drips.
A recipe scribbled in the corners of a mind that oscillates; bittersweet like a forgotten memory.
Pineapple meets porcelain in the dance of memories murmuring between objets trouvés.
Hearts heavy with acrid dreams fold into the silences we dare not reclaim whilst dreaming
A library lies—where thoughts converge—faces reappear through glass lenses of void.
The wind nudges paper boats; untethered, they swim on seas of yesterday's tomorrows.
Click here—to join the conversation fading into neglected trains.