Light skims the body like a surveyor, tracing ridges, hollows, quiet borders.
Fragments become coordinates—shoulder, heel, a slack hand—each a small longitude of breath.
Not confession, but mapping: the skin remembers where the shadow has been.
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Light skims the body like a surveyor, tracing ridges, hollows, quiet borders.
Fragments become coordinates—shoulder, heel, a slack hand—each a small longitude of breath.
Not confession, but mapping: the skin remembers where the shadow has been.