Lyric

Neon and lamp give petals an unreal sheen

They flicker at the edge like film left out to fade

Sound fractures into small repeating pieces

We move inside the shimmer the night has made

Echoes of pink hover without solid claim

Fragments of the day replay but do not hold

White spins into texture and into tone

We carry the residue like quiet gold

Scatter the grain of light across the air

Hold the shimmer as it loosens into sound

Sink into the echo where the color breathes

A reversed phrase becomes a new kind of shape

Petals become a rhythm that the city skips

Texture folds and then unfolds again

Night keeps the pieces where the daylight slips

Echoes of pink hover without solid claim

Fragments of the day replay but do not hold

White spins into texture and into tone

We carry the residue like quiet gold

Gather the fractured notes into a single thread

Let the granule bloom into a wider field

Move within the hollow of the sound

In the wash the pink becomes a map of light

We follow without asking for the route

Petals thin to whispers on the glass

We walk on, carrying the last small cast