Your thoughts ricochet off the walls of reality, where echoes linger like summer's fading warmth. Did you pounce on that word, that feeling? Or do they melt, like candy left in the sun? Fleeting, unwritten, they coil in the symphony of an unseen clock. Press your fingers through the veil; feel the time dissolve.
Can you hear it? The murmured secrets of forgotten names—starlit whispers. They hang, suspended, a lilt of laughter woven in the fabric of silence. Every tick stretches into a pull towards infinity.
Consider the spiral, a pull—here, hold onto this thought as it twists like accidental ink spilled upon a page—scribbled contracts, endless. Shapes shatter and reform; listen as harmonies fracture. Was there something coherent in the chaos? Maybe poetry lies beneath, amongst the derelict emotions cloaked in dust from eras past.
Dive Deeper Trace the Echo