In a world peeled from time's grasp, we sway like agitated ink across the pale parchment of existence. Listen: the wind knows our secrets, whispered through leaves locked in a dance of silence. We're here; they observe.
Touch the infinity; it reels back like an intimate stranger, spinning stories in half-light. Relinquished thoughts afloat in the aquatic sky, filling the voids between celestial echoes. The final breath sows the beginning.