Quiet Strata

[Verse 1]
The gallery breathes slow, a sediment of light,
Just me and canvas strata, against the fading bright.
The guard's gaze, a distant range, holds secrets in its dust,
While Rothko's ochre plains just lean, against my fading trust.

[Chorus]
This Tuesday's quiet hum, a memory takes its hold.
A whisper in the bedrock, a story left untold.

[Verse 2]
Each brushstroke, an old fault line, across a weathered face,
Reminds me of a sun-drenched town, a forgotten family space.
The weight of generations, in hues of arid bloom,
A mirage in the layers, escaping every room.

[Chorus]
This Tuesday's quiet hum, a memory takes its hold.
A whisper in the bedrock, a story left untold.

[Bridge]
He turns a page, a subtle shift, a quiet kind of grace,
While dust motes dance a slow ballet, across this empty place.
We're anchored to the moment, beneath a painted sky,
Where time feels like fine sand, just moving slowly by.

[Outro]
The strata of the heart, still forming in the dim,
A silent, sun-drenched memory, etched within.