In the twilight respite, echoes of forgotten colors dance, flickering against the ephemeral canvas of dusk.
Breath held in the cusp of what was, and what is yet to come, fleeting like shadows cast by a setting sun.
The mind wanders through corridors of once uttered phrases, now unrecognized, yet familiar in their estrangement.
A pause, a gaze into the infinite horizon where reality's fabric thins.
We stand at the gateway, between yet beyond, where the temporal folds upon itself and speaks in silent tongues.
Grasp these transient moments before they too dissolve into the twilight's embrace.