In the silence, the stars whisper tales neither old nor new. Instead, they are distant reminders of paths taken and untaken. Sometimes, they hum harmonies we forgot, lost in the ambient glow of our neon-curved realities.
Life's threads weave between realms known and those obscured by morning light. Yet, the glow stretches truth; refracting every line into yarn-like pools interacting with borders unseen. One pathway opens, only to weave into complex tangles.
An inversed visage pauses, asking. Are you entirely you? Entirely here? The shine reflects, refracts, returns. Either forged by heat or engulfed in stellar birth, truth demands ecstasy.
Within glass and beyond, the outlines shift. Shadows adjacent to light yet independently sovereign. The whimsy of cosmic waltz sets patterns unbeknownst in night-lit vacuity.
Woven whims illuminate vacuums parallel. Between bittersweet intents noticed, envied, doubted emerges solely an elongated semblance existing berthless almost; confusion quietly riveting devotion.
If considered clearer shadows were overlays themselves delineating, penetrating cosmos multiple paths diverging through lucid night.