Between the folds of yesterday's sigh,
Whispers wander like untamed fireflies,
Encased in the amber of a forgotten twitch,
Time unapologetically slithers—
A snake through the dreambound meadow.
In the echoes of a grand parade,
Remnants of laughter crumble silently,
They cling to the ache of a once-spun veil,
Mysteries carved in shadowy ink,
Inscribed upon the antennae of an unsuspecting moth.
What was it? That resonating pulse,
A chiaroscuro dance of predilection and scorn,
Between the crescents of moonlit solitude
And the radiant hush of dawn's eager embrace,
Forever teetering, on the lip of amnesia.
Let me float, in this sepia-tinted blur,
In the corners of eyelids painted twilight,
Lend me your harbor of avowed silence,
Your relentless rhythm—
A palpitating memory.