It hums softly, tension sparkles around the edges of understanding—aches in the constellations.
Words become particles of dancing light, thumbing through the weight of lost methods, nebulous in webbed perfect moments.
A scream embedded in fibrous dreams trails behind, the echoes of ancestral whispers seeping like an ambitious stream.
Thoughts conjoin at frequencies unheard, inner galaxies collapsing, birthing rapture and woe, caustic yet buoyant.
Return—to vibrate in dislocated harmony: