Love came first, soft as the inside of a collar. It whispered: Stay.
In the dream, there was no color — only the zip of a jacket being pulled up, then down, then up again. The sound was a heartbeat, or maybe a warning.
Then hate arrived, not loud, but certain — a slow unthreading of every kiss, each stitch of forgiveness undone by a single tug.
Love came first, soft as the inside of a collar. It whispered: Stay.
In the dream, there was no color — only the zip of a jacket being pulled up, then down, then up again. The sound was a heartbeat, or maybe a warning.
Then hate arrived, not loud, but certain — a slow unthreading of every kiss, each stitch of forgiveness undone by a single tug.