Tracing Shadows in Contours

Heard it once, I think, in that old hallway—something like a whisper dodging light, playing tag—did you know those walls have secrets? Under the layers of paint where fingers once carved promises to ghosts. Shift Your Stance

Walking paths, shadowed ripples in afternoon shade—some silhouettes linger, weaning like fading candlelight until they slip outlines in mind. Familiar, yet we're not sure their names, deceiving contours shifting softly. Touch the Silence

So, there’s this yellow lamp in the corner I'll tell you about—kind of like piecing together a vintage puzzle; flattening out dusk embraces every picture. Ever see it, casting sentry just beyond door's edge? Bounded rectangles in mellow calm. Draw Nearer