Consider this not as mere words. It's the echo of a melody wedged in a forgotten corner of the mind, urging you to listen once more.
Remember, the taste of summer rain on metal rooftop? That symphony plays convincingly true, binding the now with layers of pure memory. Close your eyes.
But, the third house from the corner in your childhood street, I implore, does it still breathe like it did with phantom glow, unveiling secrets?