Is memory another living being? One that dances easily through our dreams. Through broken walls and relics of days past, making the clock hands stop and rewind.

And what is this longing for another reality? change me, replace the envying, and learn to love the spell that lingers within this dearly unforgotten nebula.

If pictures are worth a thousand words, then your touch was worth a million more.

It is not like the wind — it does not pass through me.

It paints the darkness we coexisted in, and sings the life of our falling star.