In the silence that hums like anticipation, I catch whispers between corners, where reality tinges on a gentle precipice. Is this woven truth or an artful disguise?
As a swimmer dives deeper, reluctance unfolds into trust. Under ocean-grey skies, echoes are lulled, subject to own thematic veils clinging tight like winter fog.
Golden transience swirls around mundane assumptions, casting shadow and light alike. I reach—but tethered, admired paradox infinite.