“He watches from beyond the veil — neither god nor ghost, but memory embodied. His skin is etched with echoes of ancestral flame. His eyes reflect the storm of forgotten worlds.” Born in a dreamstate,

The photo I’ve shared — a faithful reflection of what I saw. Not taken in the moment, but remembered. It began with a sound I couldn’t name. Something unsettled. Something not mine. From the bathroom —

Is it okay to ache like this? I don’t know. But the tears keep falling.

The hush before the myth. The first ripple from a hidden river.