Three Sides to Every Story

One side floats - a shimmering veil, woven from words that rest light as air, a tale gliding just above the ground, slipping past roots and shadows. It drifts with ease, skimming the surface, keeping well clear of what lies deep. Another side hides in layers, a patchwork cloak stitched in half-truths, threaded with glances, and silences that speak in riddles. It flickers in and out of sight, a phantom we nearly remember, but can’t quite name. The third side - the one neither of us knows how to tell, is tangled in brambles, thick and wild, a story curled tight, buried in the earth. It hums below the surface, whispering only in dreams, a truth waiting to be unearthed if we dare to reach in. Three sides to every story: one that glides, one that hides, and one that waits, ancient and still, for someone bold enough to piece it all together.