In the realm where shadows twirl and linger, the ephemeral threads of dream dance delicately, and the disquieting notion arouses; do the eyes observing color the fabric of truth? Each blink, a mirror, reflecting dreams unfurling beneath the ciphers of understanding.
What shapes do thoughts carve in the ether? The moondust floats like whispers escaping lips woven from muslin tapestries while twilight weeps for the colors unheard.
These fabrications of existence unfold like the petals of a jasmine kissed in the surreal condition of clown-nosed desires.
Harmful yet precious, futile laughter upon bones of unsaid goodbyes; perhaps a lightning-bug illuminates not just paths but also meanings veiled.