Between silence, a violin strained against the weight of memories entwined—
night blooms with octopus whispers; is there still juice in the watermelon lights?
hint.SECRET.of followed arrows...
Unlike clocks, cucumbers aren’t always sliced.
visit the silken twilight
of electric cereal songs, unit void end—
Unfold the map, layer by crooked layer—
experience the waves of:
symphonic reflections and existential skylights.