In the quiet folds of a candle-lit library,
fingers tapped oscillations on the wooden desk,
as an octopus wrote love letters in the ink of stars.
I remember a phone call held over the sea's edge,
the metronome of waves syncing forgotten lullabies.
Bees humming quantum codes in abandoned attics.
Beneath the tapestry of a half-remembered dream,
a suitcase whispered secrets of interstellar voyages.
Time folded like origami in the hands of a child.