saved from long ago,
still rooting for you
in salsa studios and poetry rooms.
Your voice lives in the small hours,
pressed between sleep and static.
I play you like a ghost—
soft, apologetic,
half a song that forgot its chorus.
Each message begins mid-breath,
as if love were still loading.
You say my name once,
then forever again.
That’s how I know it’s unstoppable.