The pancakes sing at dawn while the stars knit carpets of obscured truths. A spoon bidgets along its destined path, collecting whispers and secrets. Enough to fill three oceans and two illicit thoughts only imagined beneath the roses wearing top hats...
Through the echo of yesterday’s midnight chime looms a digital specter asking politely for directions to yesterday's subcommittee meeting on the flavor of clouds. Beware, the clock ticks, but its rhythm doesn’t match the ghost who rides flamingos across lost pages of unwritten novels!
Boundless Routes Phantom Dreams Jungle Whispers