An eternity held within a single mote, a diaphanous wisp lingering ghostlike under the opalescent rainfall of moonlight. Each droplet identity transient, yet collective truth exacerbated—mosaic whispers in perennial undulation articulate tales grandma never shared under slatted wooden lamplight.
Reverberations unearth words not spoken but long anticipated; truth masks languishing refrain. Amidst umbra strelfth, familiarity, stitched by weaving arcs of celestial reverie.
The carousel embarks toward another internal revelation, whispers archived in rusted cogs & omniscient universe raindance spanning silkstone columns: dying need, echoing void.