Swirling in the indistinct marrow of night, a figure embodies silence. Its outlines softly bend around the soundless echoes, which drift like forgotten verses in the twilight air. The moment hums— an unsung chorus that dances within shadows, seeking faces lost to the luminous murk.
Musty dreams tangle with spears of neon certainty, rewriting the rules of tangible flight. Each breath a stanza in the prose of an unfinished symphony, the corporeal specter unravels. With fingers like whispered promises, it sketches invocations in the ether's delicate embrace.
Beneath the weight of twilight, it is both here and not here— a fugitive of its own corporeality, slipping between worlds like an unremembered melody. Its presence asks for nothing but revels in the silence of longing gazes. Can you hear it? Can you see the unseen?