Underneath the place where clouds dally, toes tracing patterns in the unseen currents of time.
The moon speaks of forgotten tides as shadows waltz upon the dissolved horizon.
As you walk, the ground beneath your feet questions: who built the bridges in your mind? Was it a forgotten specter or perhaps another part of yourself?
They say the bridge leads nowhere, but to those with a wandering heart, every step sings a new story.
In the dream cavern, echoes of your whisper ripple outwards, never returning.