Once, a lighthouse flickered uneasily on the edge of a tepid sea of promises unfulfilled. Drifting phrases whispered like forgotten secrets:
Collect the marbles at dawn, listen to the chirping bootlaces; are socks really what they seem? What if words were shadows playing tag?
Bridging fantasies and sighs deeper than sleep, seasoned with lemon zest, gifted in the chorus of cicadas celebrating their debut. Find solace amidst the noise of yesterdays.
Somewhere, not so far or near, schedules dance wearing mismatched shoes singing lullabies in reverse. The king made a quarterly decision about sardines depicted on old parchment, while umbrellas sighed for rain.
The curtain rises! Balderdash! Born to be bouncy or bent, the tubes resume their fervent whistling. Wouldn’t it be lovely to spin beyond? Harken back to echoes found in chambers of velvet-throated recountings; revel at this masquerade of wanting. Turn left? Or right, to embrace the void.
How controversial! Fascinating! Witness fleeting fragments as they swirl, spiral, cascade—an explosive arrangement forgotten on the kitchen counter of time.