You awaken in whispers of the aftermath. Echoes cloud remnants, pictures of forgotten loves pouring like raindrops housing nocturnal shadows. In fields of strange dreams, the fabric stretches, the illusion dissolves; arms reach without contact.
together we traverse spaces. an industry of pathways announcing hope under these tiresome stars — cold handshakes and velvet afternoons where conversations exist in digital folds, piling high and illusive. The ghostly chirp of fading clocks reminds faint breaths lost to airless nights.
Relinquishing all fragments becomes essential in high humidity
Daring to imagine lurking shadows, silhouettes dancing before capsizing epochs.
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