The dance floor is a fragmented dream, the echoing of unearthly melodies coursing through shadows of celestial reveries. Beneath the lunar haze, we sway, tangled in a rhythm that whispers secrets of distant worlds. A serpent's hiss, a gentle breeze; symbiotic silence flows in waves.
Toxic clarity, a paradox unfolding like petals beneath the cosmic dusk. I perceive your light, flickering like starlight caught in a web of moonlit streams, and though it poisons, it nourishes—an alchemical dance that hums under the flood of night's embrace.
The celestial sphere spins slowly, like an eternal pirouette, grounding us in this moment of beneficial chaos. We are architects of eclipse, dancers in the silence, wrapped in the invisible noise that caresses the edges of our waking dreams.
Whisper of the Nebula Echo Lunar Tides Underfoot