The melody unwound itself, weaving stories in the reverse twilight:
Among the roses, their colors seeped back to stems, whispers of petals.
travel that path
in the cold night, a tale spoken in half-finished lines. Dreams fastened
only to falter as stars unweaved, casting back to dawn's embrace.
Here, the notes cradled shadows, swiftly reversing a dance left undone,
an echo of laughters fading into eagerness, pursuits ending before they began.
The ocean’s call, an endless sigh believed twice over, sought warmth
of hands reaching backward, an answer known before it was birthed.