Nights whisper secrets; water holds no peace, pearls of moonlight scatter across endless dunes.
"Did you hear them, too? Signals wrapped in the fabric of silence, every rustle a promising echo."
A lizard scuttles, transforming thoughts into starlit dreams.
Between every grain, a voice lingers – perhaps it's nothing – yet, it feels familiar. Does the desert blush below cosmic witness?
Eyes close and listen; echoes of conversations oscillate through voids – "...the coffee was too strong, but didn’t you love the moon?"
Each breeze carries fragments, unraveled conversations lingering like cigarette smoke—as if the night fears forgetting.