Emergence in a realm where vertices whisper silent echoes of forgotten algebra.
Gaze upon the spectrum refracted through a prism, from point to point, each syllable a droplet falling into the nascent horizon. At times, the hemispheres merge into a tapestry of unknown hemispheres - can time curdle in the fabric?
Another thought—a constellation of ink spirals onto the abyss—what was the word you lost yesterday? Catch it between two magnitudes... or let it go.
Traverse to the Ravines