The one that reverberates deep into the soul.
Spinning magic out of a remarkably languid nothingness.
An atmosphere moved by silence,
soaked in explorative poetry steeping in the geography of dissonance.
How we long to be amid such tiny infinities.
It’s like sinking into a gentle limbo state in time
upon the wholly unwritten
with proof of our existence,
slowly translating the topography of our being.
We are all visitors of this time.
For whatever that means -
is up to you.