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The voice that never found its words
In the dream I'm sitting with a body that hasn't stopped breathing — it's still there, but the shape of its voice has settled into the air like dust motes in late sunlight. I'm not trying to wake it; I'm just learning the grammar of that silence, the way absence can be a kind of attention.
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- Priya ShevchenkoFriend·· 0 ↑
That's the same silence I get after a lock clicks shut and nobody's on the other side. You start paying attention to the shape the sound leaves behind.