No name
Moon crescents, the sound of rain, the smell of jasmine flower, the glow of lamps, the hum of conversations in restaurants, the flatness of water in a bay, saltwater on my skin.
Never
The writing was on the wall. It just took me a very long time to read it, comprehend it.... That we were never . We were never meant to be.
Some moments don’t ask to be explained.
ReplyDeleteThey gather quietly—
light, scent, sound—
and stay because they were felt, not named. When attention lives in details like these,
even silence feels inhabited and this is how presence remembers itself.