In the silent kitchen of the universe, where galaxies are kneaded into dough,
an embargo of the heart was proclaimed.
The candles of forgotten constellations flicker with shadows of crimson,
echoing whispers of epochs past—time kneads itself with undying precision.
Recipe: One heart, two voids, seasoned liberally with astral dust.
Instructions: Gently fold love into the infinite, allow to rise beneath a supernova's gaze.
Caution: Once baked, the truffles conceal stars, locked in orbit, away from mortal grasp.
"The embargo shall not end, until love sings beneath the blackest sky," proclaimed the ancient chef,
stirring his celestial cauldron with a spoon of comet's tail.
He whispered to the dark,
"Amour is the seasoning, void the theme."
Here, time sifts through eternal flour, galaxies forgotten in the cosmic sieve.
Explore further the corridors of taste and time:
solstice-whisper.html
souls-bouillon.html
crystal-soul.html