Silence Between

Words dissolve before they land, leaving only the shape of meaning— a cupped hand holding water that turns to light as it spills.

We build our cities of sound, brick after brick of language, but it's the empty spaces that make the walls stand.

In the pause before answering, entire conversations live and die. The unspoken holds more weight than any confession spoken aloud.

Even now, in this hum of knowing, something essential waits in the dark— not forgotten, but saved, the way fossils keep their silence.