You ever take those walks? The kind where every step shakes loose a secret, whispered leaf on the wind, begging to be caught, savored, and then vanishing forever? Sometimes I feel like those leaves carry stories themselves, like tiny candy wrappers left behind by galaxies imploding and starting anew. It sounds all too poetic, doesn't it?

Above, there's a cloud formation – a moment's dragon with jagged teeth and a haughty disposition. I think it scoffed at me just before it melted into sheep and pulled your name from memory. Green pastures stretch, bending as if waving goodbye to yesterday.

And the twilight hum, a soundtrack to everything unseen, like synaptic electricities dancing. Remember your kaleidoscope? You'd spin it wild, colors bleeding promises and half-recollections. The hardest part is letting go of those imagined realities.