Reflections of moments past seep into mind, the crack in the window—a chill.
I stand before the aging mirror, the remnants of laughter swirl like scents long faded.
Time flows strangely here; the pixels on screen recall forgotten faces—ghosts drifting.
A silent whisper rattles bones with haunting familiarity; memory makes a dance of shadows.
I reach for their warmth but find only echoes, answers buried deeper within.