It pulls, ends of invisible threads looping and tightening. Stars blink on a canvas above, dressed as dreams, rolling away on waves of forgotten commotion. Remembering...

Memory drips like candle wax, warm against the chill of unsaid things. Shadows breathe in the dim aftermath of day, beckoning to pieces of yester-echoes, fragments that fade until flicked by light. Curling inwards, each is an ocean.

More vortices lie, waiting, watching with the patient gaze of galaxies caught in elaborate dances over eons. Every murmur a ripple in the cosmic pond.
The unheard currents weave through raw moments, splintered across dimensions like the ghosts of inklings before dawn. Sun-kissed, set adrift.
Tidal sighs echo across the expanse of this inner world. Desires caught between the beat of silence, a heartbeat unmade wandering. This where all begins and finds its end, where echoes find their answers.
Silhouette frames flicker under solitude's petite lantern, guiding paths unwalked. They echo back endlessly, resonating with an eternity unseen.