Where the Moon Keeps Faces and the City Learns to Bloom

Night opens like a painted book, its pages filled with moons and listening stars. Above the city, faces drift, quiet witnesses shaped by time, their eyes holding questions the streets no longer ask aloud. Below, buildings bloom. Windows turn into petals, towers grow stems of color and light, and the city forgets its weight, rooting itself in imagination instead of stone. Flowers rise where footsteps once echoed, bright and fearless against the dark. Memory floats overhead, dreamlike and patient, while the city breathes in color and learns how to grow again.