Prompt

A single, selfluminous thread of liquid starlight, shaped like a fractalized, breathing spiral of inverted memory and unformed time, pulses through the center of a vast, inverted sky made of the solidified dreams of a civilization that communicated through the duration of synchronized, silent dreaming of the same unremembered childhood. The thread does not recallit undreams, each contraction dissolving a layer of nostalgia that never coalesced into a shared recollection, reforming into ephemeral, amethystveined afterimages shaped like the negative space between two eyes that never closed in unison during the same moment of mutual slumber. The sky is not atmosphericit is a stratified expanse of petrified innocence,

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