Silence speaks first, last, always.

The clock ticks backwards. We are losing time.

Yet, the sky waits patiently.

Do you hear it? Go further into the hollow

Voices on waves, washed away by the wind.

Listen to lunatics, for they know the secrets.

Sundays run sideways.

Letters unread, scattered like autumn leaves.

Messages from nowhere.

Lost Conversations

The moon pulls you closer.

Can you feel her whisper?

Lies told to shadows. Echoes of the edge