In the folds of the unseen, where voices reverberate off silent stones, we carve paths of liquid starlight. Each whisper is a fragment of the cosmos.
Embrace the galactic silence; it unravels the tapestry of time, and the echoes reveal truths written in constellations.
What is a crystal, if not the memory of light captured in frozen elegance? And what is a whisper, but desire's breath against eternity?
Manifest in flashes – transient as shooting stars. Dream in realms where colors bleed into the fabric of thoughts.