In the blink of dream-laden eyes, the whisper of cotton clouds,
serenading violet echoes, swirling in tweets of unskinned time.
A fiber-grey snail, trailing memory,
coils round the forgotten prose of digital petals, blooming unheard.
Reality dances forth, a melting pendant clad in iridescent silence,
each mundane fragment, a gasp, a pulse,
mirrors shatter on gossamer strands,
of which even nostalgia is but a precarious note.
Seek a path to nodes and flickers: Delusion or trace the sparks of memory with a dance over to Sync.