while the ink is not yet dry.

about ↗

The Scent of the Password

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.