On the underside of time—a seam,
like an exhale caught in a dream.
It stitches parting to a call
on a nameless yet warm canvas.
A pause. Within it, like a string,
music still holds its flight.
It is you—in the humming wave,
where breath radiates warmth.
Let the needle race ahead,
let yesterday’s thread grow thin—
in this pause, the heart lives,
and sings, and knows how to love.
Not a full stop. But a seam and light,
a gap between two times.
Not to be stitched shut or erased, no,
not torn from these names.
But in the pause—you and I,
and love resounds, never ceasing.