Darting Musings

In the heart of the clock, where time spills backward, a skipping stone breathes.

What if whispers could paint the walls with colors unseen, fluttering like fluttering wings?

Unfinished sentences chase themselves in a room that smells like falling petals.

Ask yourself, what lies under the couch? It's not just dust, it's echoes!

Piece together the wild laughter echoing down the alley of long-forgotten dreams.

Can a thought exist without its tether? No binds, just freefalling through possibility!

Hint: the universe is {an invisible}/ puzzle waiting to be assembled under your fingertips.