In the sky, a bunny hops. It wears a crown made of candy floss and dreams of rainbows.
Sometimes, the fingers tickle ticklish spots. But phantom fingers don't have spots, only air. They tell stories of shadowy trees that whisper secrets.
🌟✨🌟✨🌟✨🌟✨
And when you close your eyes, they bring stories of white rabbits who sing:
"Hop along the curvy path, where truths and tweedled lies lay soft and smooth."
Perhaps the world is just a big balloon floating in a sea of stars, waiting to be popped by gentle fingertips.