dream number ten

In the street, she stands alone, A car hums past, a shadow’s breath, Water rises from the cracked earth, Like whispers in a desert's chest. Breakfast on the sand, cold and still, Hands in gloves, black as the moon's gaze, Her face a mask, sharp as glass, No one dares to see her face. A figure turns, unspoken, Its back a silence carved in stone, And with one hand, you close your eyes, To escape what has always been unknown. AI generated music by 0nastiia