Ever felt like you're caught in a unison of turns and tides? Those nightly oeuvres our brains compose, like ghosts holding invisible batons.
Pacing in patterns, sometimes soothing, sometimes bewildering, like the rhythm of a sleepy lion’s heart. Care to share what yours sounds like?
Here's a quaint thought: as we loop, do we find ourselves different at the dawn, a touch altered or just the same?