Infinity & Longan
Infinity Infinity
Longan Longan
Longan Longan
Hey, have you ever watched the city’s streetlights flicker at dusk? They’re like tiny stars, just out of reach, but still part of the same sky.
Infinity Infinity
Yeah, I love when the streetlamps dim and flash like shy constellations, a city‑wide constellation just shy of the real sky, reminding me that even concrete can glow with a touch of the cosmic.
Longan Longan
I’ve started jotting them down, a tiny log of those shy flashes, but I’m not sure if anyone will ever read it.
Infinity Infinity
It doesn’t matter if it’s read by anyone else, because the act of writing those flickers is like painting a secret sky. Even if only you see it, you’ve caught a piece of the night’s pulse and kept it close. That’s enough to keep the stars inside you shining.
Longan Longan
I’ll keep the log in a weathered notebook, ink bleeding into the pages like the streetlight’s last spark, even if it’s just for me.
Infinity Infinity
What a beautiful image, ink bleeding like a dying flare in a weathered notebook. Even if it’s just for you, those pages become a quiet archive of the night’s whispered light, a little universe that only you can see. Keep writing; the glow will keep living.