Suds tumble like old phrases half-remembered, echoes across quiet twilight, As the ethereal bar dissolves, rippling sanity away within each lapping caress. Time stands severed between a prism of forgotten years, yet fresh and crisp like linen. Cycles arise, dynamics of cleansing and chaos stepping into the rhythm of the gaiety dance.
Watch closely as the bubbles pirouette, nestled in the helm of dreams un_played. Under the soap's gentle embrace, the stories wash ashore -- memories once marred, anew like foams molding the sands of the ethereal coast.