Moments wrap around reluctant hearts, dreams are their passengers, carrying memories down arterial roads.
A pendulum swings, further and further, smitting the sands, as if they once whispered the name of those who waited.
Each tick unveils an echo—a reflection in a rain-soaked mirror, ever asking who we really are behind nebulous smoke.
Clocks drape shadows across the floor, unaware of the spirals capturing identities beneath their weight.
Find your direction in the lines Where Whispers Collide.
Or explore the layers of time like an inverted collage Infinite Paradoxes.