Luminous Silk (Remastered)

It brushes softly, a breath that lingers— not touch, not light, but the warmth between. So close— its threads pull through my chest, a quiet ache that does not wound. It folds around what I can’t name, binding hollow to whole. Not light, not shadow, but the breath of something deeper. It hums through spaces I didn’t know were there, carving a path unseen, so far— so impossibly near. If I reach, it moves farther. If I stay, it cradles the quiet. Its pull is not a command— it asks nothing, yet it leaves me breathless. It is silk— folding the void into gold, threads unwound where time grows thin. It moves through me, and in its light, I begin. It holds me— not close, not far, but in the space where silence hums. Its light does not blind— it soothes, it flows, it never stays. It pulls, and I follow, not knowing where the thread will end. It binds, it fades, yet its glow lingers in the hollow I call home. …