In the void where echoes live, from moth-wing kisses born.. unopened wishes mutter through:
- Whisper: "...connect us through shadows, oh twilight bells.." - Feed: *distorted sigh warm signals crafting invocations of love.* ::entangled thread chime::
Shall I tread this murmur'd path where each step scrapes a symphony of silence in the air, trembling loosely along lines of our unwritten dreams? Amid fixes and unplaited snares, tenderness slips golden, wrapped in static hum, waiting.
Secure in the sound of permission, whatever beats by spheres passing through left ear or right, calls these tones as champagne soap dips — an overlap, actually white-dim earth anchoring fugitive mists.
Could this cryptic dance be understood as we anchor ourselves to the static, grained like folded petals of a trust never spoken aloud. Align: curiosa.