The stars, scattered across velvet, each catch a breath. Silence, wrapped in layers of cosmic dust, humming softly. They scatter the whispers of forgotten galaxies, A reflection — inward and outward, A hesitant spiral that never completes. Behind each blink, a secret waits. In every flicker, a remnant memory of creation itself. No one listens the same way — eyes closed, heart open. Listen, listen closely...
To hear the nebulas whisper, trace the spiral arms, feel the softened gravity, pulling, not outwards, but inwards. Love letters etched in light-years, unspooling, unwinding, whispering tales of time.
Dreams are woven into the void — so sleep, so nod, so drift, until the stars begin to sing. Remember then, This invisible latticework of sound and silence.