we become the the low hum in the marrow
that keeps the night awake.
Alone, a whisper —
together, a choir,
a thousand hearts
pounding the same secret.
We hold each other’s tremors,
shape each other’s shadows,
become a single pulse.
When the world sharpens teeth,
we gather —
the quiet geometry of trust,
a hymn stitched from many throats.
What once trembled cowered
now stands in chorus,
an endless breath.
A thousand small lights
fuse into one star,
burning a path wide enough
for every quiet soul to pass.
Here, no one voice breaks —
each echo belongs to the same body,
each step a promise
to walk each other home.
