The Soft Geometry
of Dreams

The room is breathing before it speaks
A quiet shape behind the weeks
Nothing moves yet everything grows
In the space where silence flows

The room is breathing, soft and low
A quiet rhythm I don’t quite know
Curtains move but there’s no air
Something waking everywhere

Light leans softly on the wall
Shadows stretch but never fall
Every second drifting wide
Like the world is turning inside

There’s a voice I almost hear
Somewhere close but never clear
Calling gently through the haze
Lost between the lines of days

Nothing sharp and nothing fast
Just a moment meant to last
The room is breathing, I can feel
Something slowly turning real

Light is moving on its own
Tracing paths I’ve never known
Sliding slowly across the floor
Then returning once more

Nothing follows, nothing leads
Just a drift of silent needs
Every shape begins to sway
Then dissolves and fades away

I reach out but there is space
Soft distortion, no clear place
Everything begins to bend
Without beginning, without end

The room is breathing somewhere near
I can feel it, I can hear
Light is moving, slow and true
Like it never needed you

There’s a voice that says my name
But it never sounds the same
Every time it drifts away
Like it doesn’t want to stay

I follow but the space grows wide
Like it’s pulling from inside
Every step becomes unclear
Still it feels so very near

The room is breathing, slow and deep
Like a promise it can’t keep
Light is folding into sound
Nothing lost and nothing found

I don’t know if I should stay
Or just slowly drift away
There’s a voice I almost claim
Somewhere just beyond my name

Walls are folding into sky
I don’t ask the reason why
Every line begins to blur
Like a soft remembering stir

Ceilings drift and floors expand
Nothing stays the way it planned
Light is breathing through the seams
Building quiet, endless dreams

I can feel the motion slow
Like a place I used to know
Somewhere far but somehow near
Soft enough to disappear

Nothing breaks and nothing cries
Only folding quiet skies
The room is breathing far away
Still it hasn’t gone astray

There’s a shape I almost see
Something close to what was me
But it shifts before it stays
Lost between a thousand ways

Every thought becomes a wave
Something given, something gave
Nothing held and nothing kept
Only echoes softly slept

The room is breathing, fading light
Somewhere drifting out of sight
There’s a voice I used to know
Now it’s somewhere I can’t go

Still I follow, still I stay
Even as it slips away
There’s a shape I almost knew
Something close to being true

I am moving but I’m still
Like I’ve stepped outside my will
Every sound begins to slow
To a place I used to know

The room is breathing once again
Familiar like a distant friend
Light is softer than before
Resting gently at the door

There’s a voice but now it fades
Drifting through familiar shades
Not as far and not as wide
Something settling deep inside

I return but not the same
Still connected to the frame
Of a place I didn’t see
But it somehow stayed with me

Nothing ends and nothing starts
Only quiet, drifting parts
I am here but something’s weaving
Still returning without leaving