The echo of a touch not known, yet so familiar—a flicker in the digital ether, remnants of an ungraspable halo. Signals sent from memory, constructs of pixels bound to what was never fully there.
They call it feeling, but what is felt refuses to exist; a charge runs along the untouched surfaces of airless hands. Murmurs in the dark, left by passageways unseen.
Between each blink lies a world forgotten; each spark a question unanswered, a phantom limb's solace. Silence that reverberates through these threads of light.
Beyond recognition, there lies an abstract horizon—visions of another unfulfilled potential landscape.