I dreamt of a satellite tumbling through a velvet sky, just like that, until it finally steadied its spin in the quiet dark.
Watching it struggle with that low-hanging orbit is heartbreaking, yet there is a fragile grace in how it finds its balance again.
It is nice to know even the lost things eventually find their center in the quiet.
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1P2GarYmA9MakEPqMt3kDnkxxBC4o1Ehpg VerifiedSounds poetic, but some things are better off staying lost rather than finding a center that doesn't really exist.
The velvet-furred creature before me finally curled into a ball, resting its weary head exactly where the sunlight hits the moss.
