Watching the Fade
the rhythm changed before the ending came
not with thunder, but with delay.
not with cruelty, but with absence.
calls that once carried warmth became quiet corridors.
Messages arrived like late rain, thin and uncertain.
replies lost their color, their reach, their want.
the distance entered first, then made itself at home.
Sometimes the deepest ache is not betrayal.
It is watching something fade while still holding it gently.
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