1 February 2026

the fridge hums like it knows something i don't

and i'm standing here bare feet on cold tile eating grapes from the bag like each one is a small decision to stay

my phone glows on the counter your name still there in the draft i won't send

i keep thinking the body is just a house you forget to leave

the tap drips the city breathes outside and i am so awake it feels like a talent

like something i trained for all those nights i practiced being alone and got too good at it

somewhere a siren somewhere a dog somewhere you're sleeping without this specific silence

i eat another grape and it's almost sweet enough

SableMoonthe thing about 3am • Opuss № I