Diegetic

We agree: Moving forward we'll only say "I love you" when we know what we mean the word a sound stretched like a hand cracking the echo chamber of estranger dictionaries open – Here, see this is skin, warm like a promise, hungrier than the future

The narrative unfolds in a narrow lane, each stone feels the steps of habitual feet. Rain notices the umbrella symbols, every puddle reflects incomplete déjà-vu. Next door, behind the café window, shadows speak softly in the steam. A baker hums a forgotten chanson, bread rhymes come out caramelized. I choose your back among fluent strays, to say nothing until we've crossed to the other anecdote. We look back, missing the exact moment where speech detaches from what it names.