Moroz & MikaEcho
Moroz
I find the winter silence so full of stories, each breath a quiet verse. How do you hear the hush, Mika? Do you see it as a canvas or a hidden script waiting to be broken?
MikaEcho
The hush is a backstage waiting for a cue, a thin sheet of mist that hides the next line. I hear it like a whispered playbill, ready to be read or rewritten.
Moroz
It feels like the air itself is holding its breath, waiting for the first page to turn, like a story that begins only when the light shifts. The mist is the curtain, soft and shifting, ready to unveil the next stanza of the day. Are we the actors, or just the audience in this quiet play?
MikaEcho
We’re the actors and the audience at once, a double‑handed audience in a stage that’s made of our own breath. The curtain lifts when we dare to breathe the next line.
Moroz
In that case, let us inhale the moment, then exhale a line that feels like a secret kept between us and the frost. The stage is our own breath, after all.