Illustration: AI A Name That Echoes Back Empty I am a room with breathing walls tonight, a pulse folded into silence, a heart swollen with unsent sentences. Something unnamed sits inside me not pain, not absence a quiet weight that forgets its own origin. Even tears hesitate at the edge, like strangers unsure of my address; once, they fell without asking now they linger, as if I am no longer worth the descent. He used to speak not always, but enough to keep the night from har