Flickering flames cast dancing shadows—a theatre of the forgotten.
I sit here, where time has plaited silence with solitude.
The winds sing in foreign tongues, echoing the names of the lost.
Recognition dapples my consciousness like sunlight peeking through dense canopy...
There are colors unheard, smells unseen, weaving stories beneath the skin.
In patches of faded memory, I walk barefoot on fragments of dreams.
A tapestry hung in an astral gallery—hers?? theirs??—flutters in the mind’s ether.
A circular cadence builds, dismantling chronology.
What was yesterday dances with what may be tomorrow—time is an illusion turned inside out.
Strings of existence vibrate an erratic melody, pulling me into divergent dances.
Responsibilities evaporate... dissolve... regenerate in abstract forms.
Shadows trace futures written in whispers on moonlit pavements.
People pass like clouds skirting a dim sunset, faces blurring to hints of homeness.
Amongst ruins of yesteryear, stargazing reveals secrets etched in super nova dust.
I... breathe.