you / structure
you walk in carrying a second grid
not drawn
not approved
running under the skin like voltage
they call this place stable
fixed points
named corridors
a clean map of movement
but you feel the drag
where weight is mislaid
where time buckles
where something essential has been filed
into silence
no one says it
they adjust the light instead
you touch the fault line
once
and it names you
too much
too sharp
as if precision were a crime
as if seeing were excess
you try to stand inside their geometry
let the angles take you
inherit the tilt
but your body won’t lie for it
won’t call absence enough
won’t translate lack into language
there is another structure
you don’t invent it
you remember
it moves under everything
quiet, exact
refusing permission
they build upward
you feel downward
into what’s missing
into what could hold
this is the split
this is the cost
no collapse
no clean break
just you
carrying a map that doesn’t land here
refusing to forget it
anyway




One of the most stunning pieces I’ve read from you lately. I was hanging on each line. Fantastic, friend.