The voices settled on the edges, weaving through the spaces between what was said and what was never uttered. They formed symphonies in the silence, each note meticulously crafted from starlight and forgotten memories. As if the universe held its breath, awaiting the moment these symphonic whispers collided with reality.
In the alley behind the café,
the morning sun spills warmth, but only on the distant horizon of dreams.
Here, coffee mugs brim with silent conversations, dreams unformed
yet clattering like forgotten symphonies.
I speak to the walls,
cocooned within their static embrace,
my melodies unheard, unheard and unfolding
into the tapestry of muted symphonies.