Release April 4, 2025.

The hands were never made to measure, and still we keep time. These words, like rivers, refused the course I set—ran backwards, against current, against sense, dragging memory and dream and grief along their silt-heavy bends. I did not write them to be read, only to be released. If they return to you like echoes, half-heard and full of ache, then let them be what they are: small declarations, half-truths, stubborn feelings that would not drown.

This is for the thoughts that never formed into breath—unborn, unspoken, unspent. The kind only the stars could ever spell out, but once you blink, the pattern disappears.

This is dedicated to you.