Sometimes, when the velvet night unwraps around you,
it’s like slipping into an old leather jacket you found via serendipity in the attic.
Cozy familiarity tinged with whispers long past.
It’s in these starlit moments you hear the paradox in its subdued brilliance—
where darkness births light in luminescent rhythm,
sparking fires in the mind as softly as a moth’s wing stirs the air.