Time reaches out with his swirling, dancing, twisting, turning fingers. The gentle tips trace her face, her soft jaw. She lets out a breath, constellations riding the warm air. Time and Space sway gracefully through the universe, arms wrapped around eachother, footsteps sending ripples of life through it all.
Her skirts twirl and sway, the rustling creating the sound of the ocean, the crashing waves, and pattering rain. Her eyes are iridescent, shimmering and bright. Space looks up into Time's own, laughing with the sound of bells.
His are golden and calculating. They form geometric shapes, honeycombs and pyramids. They gaze only into hers, searching and seeking. His nimble hands guide her through the twirls. His deft shoes lead the sways and steps with a slow, steady certainty.
Forests rise and fall around them, full of sparkling fairies and rotting logs, damp moss and clear puddles, shattered rocks and worn paths. Sand falls in a steady stream through glass, tracking the fleeting moments.
The days are endless, ever-resetting, never receding, but flying by nevertheless. A constant feeling of being rushed, of the moment slipping through fingers, of regret and past-tense.
An ever-expanding, constantly exploding universe, but always full to the brim. Never enough room. Shrinking halls, packed streets, unable to keep that one drawer shut.
Time and Space, finite infinity.
ESTÁ A LER
Twisted Dreams
PoesiaA collection of short stories, poems, and half-written ramblings. ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 dream \ ˈdrēm \ 1 : a series of thoughts, visions, or feelings that happen during sleep ~•°•°-----------------------------------《☆》 night·m...
