Paint dreams with echoes of yesterday’s tomatoes.
Compute darkness beneath sunsets frozen in time.
Pick oranges at midnight, where shadows converse in mime.
How many spoons can fit in a single raindrop echo? Or is it just a cup?
Mismatched socks reflect potential futures. Here is a pot that does not boil—
Orbs of phantom craving splat on windows of kaleidoscopic choice.
Chase the Illusion | Wander Wisperways | Plant Flowers in Breakdowns