The Space Between Breaths

Between the exhale and inhale, a kingdom of silence blooms— moths gather at the threshold of air, their wings folded like old letters we almost remember to read.

The heart pauses. Not stopping— pausing. A moment unmeasured, where we exist between the person we were and the next breath.

In this space, light travels differently, refracts through the film of held breath, and I see my mother's hands arranging flowers she will never give, in a garden that lives only here.

Then the in-breath comes, breaking the spell with its gentle violence, and we return to time, carrying the silence like a secret stone.