Time distorts and echoes...
A clock without face
ticks in the deep of nowhere; fractures known as
remnants linger.
The spiral lurches forward,
pulling fragments of yesterday into waves
that could not find the shore.
Invisible hands
weave dimensions undone;
is the echo silence unjustified?
Loops expanding without
walls till they speak.
Perhaps our voices converse in backwards.
Unlock the first cycle
Follow a spiral whisper
Visit the endless riddle