In the folds of unspoken dreams, the boundaries between fragrance and noise blur.
Fragile universes shudder lightly—
your presence, a whisper in persistent deluge.
Roomful of mirrors echoes your former self; the curtain rises and falls like half-formed thoughts.
The skein of the unknown unwinds willingly, playing with feelings too true, too familiar...
What if we forget?
Light shivers through the loneliness hidden by veils shimmering in ice blue.
Harvest echoes,
a fruit of the dusk—each bite dances on intricacies forgotten with daylight.
But why do mysteries tremble beyond your grasp?
Origin in frivolous supposition methodically eludes the madness of certainty.
Find solace in wanderlust; engage this halcyon rhythm of tango with your past, held still by time.