The cable twists in my grasp,
like words unsaid, coiling tight.
A motor passes, unseen,
its hum a reminder of silence.
Between us, a pause lingers,
a conversation never begun.

Light shifts through the window,
changing shapes on the wall.
I trace the lines, hoping
to find meaning in shadows.
Yet, the moment slips away,
lost in the folds of time.

I let the cable fall,
each loop a whisper of regret.
The motor's echo fades,
leaving only the quiet.
In this stillness, I find
myself becoming part of time.