It's raining in the evening, everything is sparkling, and soul is warm. The paths of cells tend to diverge in time and space, and we will never see each other again, only the path of reverie ahead.
Did you know?
Storm, run.
The gentle shimmer of the stars irrigates my skin and the gloomy rocky vaults of the system remain far below. Taking steps through an endless ocean of disembodied crystals drowned in fluffy clouds, ascending. Beyond the burial comes the young morning.