"Do you remember those afternoons, when tamped circuitry hummed beneath in tandem to kittened rain bouts?" She asked, peering through hues of retrofuturistic mist.
Chimerical ships glided by, trailing soft echoes of their forgotten names. Amid such majesty, what remains but our crisscrossed laughter embedding itself within their skeletal armatures?
We'll always find ourselves back here, under tumultuous azure shrouds, sipping laughter infusion, re-tuning our heart's vintage radio to the rhythms of ghost exclamations.
Curious to take another detour? You might find solace in the whimsical:
Secret Gardens
Songbird Concert
Memory Artisans