Whispers bounce on the surface—pebbles of thoughts, floating, looking for gaps. Night abstracts sound with silver threads, as fabric making patterns in dimly lit corners.
What does it mean to forget a dream? Is a dream broken if it reverberates within limbs unspent? Shadows dance, uncoiling desires etched in fading ink; echoes stumble over each other—
Fragmented lullabies sung while time slows, dilating moments as a fish swallows a star. Do they linger? Flee before the morning sun?
Snippets swim, echoes interweaving to soundscapes unknown—like the rain tasting jasmine in memory.
indistinct by design, you can delve into the half-light, and wonder what sleeps behind the shutters of Echoed Nostalgia.