time slips like liquid silver into the crevices of forgotten centers. constellations whisper tales stitched from shadows, moments lost then frayed. beneath star-scattered skies.
when was it i last traced the edges? crossroads became stars, benchmarks in the night. calendars unfolding like buried wings.
one constellation speaks in languages i'm yet to learn. another hums the lullabies of abandoned stories; shadows dance around their whispers. warm embers on frostbitten fingertips.
and time, oh how it spills—filling jars on rocky shelves. moons wax, wane; calendars punch holes through the chance of unwritten destiny.
find the stars within sheets of ivory dreams, woven togther with threads thin and delicate. remind yourself, the tethering is both anchor and sigh.