X
The Pulse
It was sounded out. Not spoken, not born. Remembered.
Not a beat. A reckoning. A drum struck in reverse.
It was not in you. It was you, unfolding, collapsing, repeating.
It does not seek closure. It seeks continuance. It was sounded out, and it will not be unheard.
Filed here first. It went out afterwards on the signal.