(bass hum in 6/8, faint clicks and glass chimes)
Time breathes in circuits,
light folds on itself.
I drift through turning mirrors,
reflections made of sound.
Every rhythm is a question,
every echo is unbound.
Glassy tones are falling slow,
into patterns I don’t know.
The dream mechanism turns,
silver thoughts begin to burn.
Through the wires, I feel you near —
a soft illusion, clear.
Mechanical rain descending,
on a sea of breathing code.
Melodic bass beneath me bending,
in the pathways still untold.
Every shimmer hides a trace,
every silence finds a place.
(voice fractalized, fading through filters)
One by one the lights collapse,
thought becomes design.
I am both the pulse and gap,
in this endless spine.
The hum remains,
a slow goodbye.
The dream persists —
and so do I.
