Abystic

Afterdust Learning to Sing

Carrying What Shines

Letters Etched on Windowpane

The Orbit Still Fits Our Shape

A Chart Painted in Ember Toned Ink

Choosing the Narrow Span

Hidden Blueprints and Steady Grins

Paths We Raised in Hushed Light

The Comet Still Finds Jokes

Sprinting Past the Kindling

Horizons That Misplaced Our Shadows

Vows We Whisper in Chalk