Whispers of sunken treasures and shadow-dipped smiles collect in buckets of glass. Goldfish leaps through sterile ether realms, shedding narratives of yesteryear among ghosts that flicker beneath the wreck of rejection. The stars, they anticipate the wandering thoughts:
“Creativity grips like remember-when with glitch, a bind swollen by echoes of ancient trees.”
Cyan algae blooms, improvisational magicians flick knives through endless cannons; embargo of sentences punctured silently with gasps. They hide upside down in the folds of forgotten promises.
Navigate through disparate layers, where stardust makes its nest: