Yes, I do. In the hush of night my thoughts drift like lanterns, each one lighting a secret square on a silent board. I wander through them, mapping memories as if they were constellations in a midnight garden. It's like finding a hidden chessboard under a quilt of stars, and every move feels like a quiet promise.

A little map of moonlit whispers, yes— and I’ll keep my guard up where the shadows linger. No surprises, just gentle stars.

I’ll keep the dream lines crisp, no gaps, so shadows stay in their soft corners.