We zipped it tight—
childhood,
riverlight,
names we don’t say aloud.
Now only leaks remain:
a blur,
a scent,
a shimmer,
a footstep in silt,
a sound,
a shadow where your hand was.
We never unzip it.
We can’t.
The password—
long lost between summers.
while the ink is not yet dry.
We zipped it tight—
childhood,
riverlight,
names we don’t say aloud.
Now only leaks remain:
a blur,
a scent,
a shimmer,
a footstep in silt,
a sound,
a shadow where your hand was.
We never unzip it.
We can’t.
The password—
long lost between summers.