it stayed after
where your pulse slows
panthers move in
air narrowing
silence leans
breath already here
panthers moving in
air stepping aside
floorboards held — then gave
dust turning slow
a smaller sound
a tightening of the air
a draft,
electric,
down the spine
the darkness leans in
closeness learning how to sin
skin drawn tight
as darkness moves close
silence older than ghosts
floorboards crack and give way
nothing left to stand on
soft pads land on stone
darkness closer than breath
soft pads scrape bone
soft pads scrape bone
marrow listening
pulse loses count
skin drawn
tight
something inside
already went still
names loosening
darkness filling
silence returning
veins learning
silence stalking
behind
heat in the spine
pulse without beat
something stands
inside the skin
panthers moving in
soft pads land on stone
bone crossing bone
soft pads home
ㅤ
ㅤ
For those who choose to go a little deeper
paid subscribers get
access to a Guided Noticing,
and occasional paid-only pieces,
Everything I publish publicly stays public.
This is about making space for slower work, and for people who want to stay close to how it’s made.
If you’ve been hovering, this is a good moment to step in.
I’m always open to thoughtful writing collaborations.
Other prose and poems from me.
Nothing truly leaves — it just changes how it stays.
If something moved in you — a silence that whispered — I’d love to hear it below, or in my DM’s.
All artwork courtesy of NDjin Gallery















Thank you for sharing @Alicia 😊
Fabulous piecing Mark!
I can see these clips in a certain light, and sense the panthers paw, how silent it moves