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A recorded reading of “Loop to Keep”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
You surface in my feed— two taps—looped debut. Stitched reviews make us laugh; we duet the midnight news. Your hoodie tagged in thrift; the feed serves you to me. Then Wi-Fi thins. We meet where the streetlight burns a small hole in rain. Steam halos the polystyrene; chilli oil freckles the lids. Cheap plastic spoons click. You talk with eyes—no spin— a dimple lifts, resets the room. The algorithm hushes to a pocket hum. A bus shudders close, breathing diesel and warm tin; my thumb forgets to loop the moment. “Choose the now,” you say, and mean it. “Name the how,” I answer—no drafts. No caption, no cut. Just the salt of chips, our shoulders touching, the nod we trade like a password. Phones face-down; the feed can’t follow. Streetlight combs rain into threads on your sleeve. The night stops scrolling. We keep this scene unsaved— salt ghosting our thumbs as we walk, heat in the paper bag, and room in the night; salt on our tongues.
Lyrics
You land on my for-you Two taps, a looped debut We laugh at stitched reviews We duet midnight news Your hoodie in a thrift My screen hands me the gift Scroll then slow Say we know Let it show Make it so For you, for real Say you feel, feel We meet where wifi thins Street eats, cheap plastic wins You talk with eyes, no spin I clock the dimple grin The algo fades to hush It’s heartbeat, bus stop rush Choose the now Name the how No what-ifs Make it vow For you, for real Say you feel, feel No feed Just need One kiss No script For you, for real Say you feel, feel Night scrolls shut, we heal Off-screen, on-heart, we’re real
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