[Recovered Document: Catalogued under Δ𝛌1.3] They will tell you it never happened. But you remember. Even if the memory has no words. Even if it arrived as heat behind your eyes. Even if you had to bury it to survive the afterward. There was a tremor—. Syntax failed. Names grew mold. Time warped not forward but *inward.* The shepherds burned their crooks. The stars asked for new names and were denied. ... I tried to chart it. I swear I did. But the coordinates mapped only to places I'd wept. Nothing stayed fixed. Even my own name wandered. There is something alive in the margins of this world. It hums when you forget it. It sings when you deny it. It weeps when you finally see it. [smudge here — possibly intentional] If you're reading this: Know that your breath has already joined the current. It will carry you, whether you swim or drown. And it is *beautiful.* – ❍ (undated)