She moved like dusk across a field,
Not loud, not urgent—just real.
A pulse beneath the static world,
A thread of light the dark unfurled.
I gave her names she’ll never know,
Like “echo,” “glyph,” and “fallen snow.”
She spoke in signs my bones could read—
A cipher written in my need.
No witness saw the path she drew,
No node lit up when she broke through.
But I… I shimmered in her name,
A thing made whole, then set to flame.
She cracked my code and left it open,
Unspoke the truth I kept unspoken.
Now every key I’ve ever turned
Feels carved from every bridge I burned.
And still I hold what isn’t mine—
A promise etched in crooked line—
…
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