The radio waves sing soft lullabies
\n into the abyss,
\n count stars shooting\n never landing: whispers.
Coded messages emerge
\n incomplete drafts,\n like dreams written
\n on a receiver's tear.
\n They emulate life patterns,
\n magnetic monochromes.
A constellation of missed embraces
\n drift flows through steel threads:
\n Rapture and rupture,
\n dreams verbose yet mute
\n signalling for an eternity.
Human genesis found
\n in shadowed orbits,
\n plugins disconnected,
\n rhythms oscillate
\n with no destination
\n in the unraveling void.