Aksonance (May 2026)
I learned the shape of time on your wrist, where seconds hesitate before they exist. Every goodbye bends, every hello stays, in the negative space between our days.
Hold what I can’t be when I’m not there. Hands remember what voices spare. Time may run, but it can’t erase the pulse we left in that hollowed space. I’m here when you feel the air move slow, I’m here in the weight you already know.
