A whisper of lingering thoughts, frayed edges of memories kiss the shadows where illusions laugh. Why do they blink in flickering light? Dreams tangled, the warm electric hum pulls apart seams of reality, one golden thread snaking through bare existence.
The echoes of yesterday ride with us yet dissolve in the moment, like cotton candy clouds melting on pink tongues. Monsters weave through the dialogue—the chime of a porcelain clock slow-dances beneath the floorboards of the mind.
As sunspots drift down draped curtains, can murmurs of the void beckon? Ascend towards that strange fiend dancing with echoes of laughter heard but unseen. Eviscerated snippets slide the heart-side escapades.
We become shadows of candlelight.
Eyes that do not exist flicker at the periphery, echoes of ghastly laughter sheer atop fractal speculations. Infinite words swirling suspended, beneath gauzy tentacles we leap.
Whence the memory threads officially fray into nothing, yet still, dry ink reminds us we wrote the script breathed into conclusions culpa for the spectacle of flesh.
Perchance a world unfurled - go visualize through the mechanized marrow of entrails.