I write from corners where shadows echo
past the fabric of timeless whispers
where dreams align in crooked truths.
Unspeakable secrets nestled in twilight's embrace,
dance silently in paradoxes forgotten.
Each word a drop in stillness's vast ocean.
In the spaces between breaths,
reality inverts, unfolds, and suffices.
Life becomes both shadow and light.
Seek the inversion where paths converge,
slip through the unseen seamster's hands.
You are the weaver, the undone, the finished.
Speak to those who hear with silence,
touch the untouchable wings of a dream.
Write back to the screams of soft-spoken night.