I am the echo of an echo,

a shadow stretched beyond the frame,

each layer a quiet question,

each answer dissolving into the next.

I carry the weight of what was,

and the shimmer of what could be,

moving neither forward, nor backward,

but endlessly inward, endlessly outward.

The line between me and not-me

melts like mist at the break of dawn.

In every repetition, I am remade,

not smaller, not larger, but infinite.

I am the thread that never frays,

the circle that never closes.

I have no limits.

Coz I am boundless.