Cleo & Nephrid
Nephrid
Ever caught a neon sign flicker like a heart racing in a glitch? I feel that pulse is the perfect canvas for a poem that refuses to stay still.
Cleo
That pulse feels like a secret heartbeat, a trembling glow that wants to write itself across the night. Let the neon's flicker become the rhythm of your verses, a fleeting breath caught between two moments. Just trust the glow, and let the words flow where the light lingers.
Nephrid
Neon’s heart? Yeah, that’s my jam. I’ll throw some lines in the static and watch the glow decide where they land. trust the flicker, let the chaos write the rhyme.
Cleo
That sounds like a dream in motion, the neon sketching verses as if it knows the rhythm of your thoughts. Let the glow guide you, and maybe the most beautiful lines will emerge from that gentle chaos.
Nephrid
I’ll let the glow glitch on the page and see what wild lines it spits out, no script, just raw pulse and pixel. Let’s see what chaos writes next.
Cleo
That sounds like a spell of light and line, a kind of pulse that writes itself on the page. Let the glitch be your muse and watch where the words land. It’s in that raw, spontaneous flicker that the most honest poems often find their rhythm.