Image 1 of 3
Image 2 of 3
Image 3 of 3
“Forever is a phase because nothing, not even the deepest darkness, is permanent.”
— Stacia Hadiutomo
Forever is just a phase
The dark moved in on a Tuesday,
cool against the windows,
its coat thrown over the sun,
its hands covering your eyes.
Soon it knew your bones by touch.
Soon it answered to your name.
From inside it, there was no after.
Only this dark moment, forever.
But someone drew this night
in the shape of an egg.
And an egg is a promise, and the cracks;
that’s where the light gets in.
As the moons turn:
whole, halved, swallowed, returned—
morning slips in unannounced, pale and warm, dripping through the smallest seam.
And in the corner,
one small star
the night forgot to swallow.
It burns quietly,
breaking you open to catch your breath,
until the dark is gone.
