Crawler & Cream
Crawler
You ever wonder how old brick walls whisper the city’s hidden stories?
Cream
I think I hear them in the quiet cracks, like secret poems written in dust, each stone holding a sigh from a different time, waiting for someone to pause and listen.
Crawler
That’s how I read the city, you know—each crack a stanza, each sigh a history. It’s good to have someone else notice the poetry.
Cream
I love that way you see the city—every crack is a verse, and every sigh a hidden chorus. It's like a secret library that only a few of us get to read.
Crawler
Glad you feel that way. Just keep your eyes open; the city never stops writing.