In the scissor hands of a clockwork mind, clouds weave delicate whispers...
They break and scatter, reminiscent of secrets never told — shimmering silver;
Time, that vast gelatinous river, softly trickles amidst the cotton dreams.
Watch as shadows pirouette, lost thoughts punctuate the floating fluff...
The air thickens with celestial flutter, questions arise like moths to flames.
Who runs the gears that turn these intangible notions?
Touch the Cloud's Dream