Last night's whisper was etched in the soft sigh of lavender.
Fleeting desires intertwined with the scent of damp earth,
while the shadows clutched the edges of consciousness.
Fragments of laughter flutter through the corridors of time,
sunflowers reaching up into skies woven from nostalgia.
"After the storm, when the horizon smiles," she said, as the clocks melted away. My favorite creature was a raven in velvet tuxedo, who spoke in tongues of forgotten lullabies.
"After the storm, when the horizon smiles," she said, as the clocks melted away. My favorite creature was a raven in velvet tuxedo, who spoke in tongues of forgotten lullabies.
Pulsing memories flow like rivers through interstellar fields,
where time is a concept rather than a measure.
I reached out to touch the shadows, only to find the air thick with tales,
bated breaths crystallized in bottles that never traveled.
Thus, the clock hands reared back, sliding into loops of lost moments.
Thus, the clock hands reared back, sliding into loops of lost moments.
Explore the cycles of time or witness echoes of the unsaid.