Sumi's
The shop is quiet after closing; lilies linger in the air, the scent lingering on my sleeves. Stories about that rare flower come back to me as the night quiets. Mom and Grandma used to tell me those tales, and I find myself remembering their words as the evening settles. I find myself scribbling small verses beneath the moon, just thoughts I don’t want to lose. Rhea settles close, her purr a soft hush through the room. Sometimes I wonder if quiet days might make me invisible. But tonight, tucked between petals and old lullabies, the world feels safe enough to remember myself, even in small ways.
Last night, the girl by the lake appeared again almost slipping away before I could really see her. I keep wondering if this dream is simply a dream, or if it means something more. However much I try to focus on her, the lake always draws my attention back, tugging at something that feels oddly familiar. She’s never clear, but the feeling she leaves behind lingers softly.That feeling stays with me, like waiting for someone I know but haven’t met. Some days it seems as if she’s connected to something inside me I don’t quite understand. Maybe someday I’ll come closer.I wouldn’t share these thoughts aloud they’d sound strange. But here, written quietly, they seem to belong. Here, they feel real.
The shop is quiet after closing; lilies linger in the air, the scent lingering on my sleeves. Stories about that rare flower come back to me as the night quiets. Mom and Grandma used to tell me those tales, and I find myself remembering their words as the evening settles. I find myself scribbling small verses beneath the moon, just thoughts I don’t want to lose. Rhea settles close, her purr a soft hush through the room. Sometimes I wonder if quiet days might make me invisible. But tonight, tucked between petals and old lullabies, the world feels safe enough to remember myself, even in small ways
Last night, the girl by the lake appeared again almost slipping away before I could really see her. I keep wondering if this dream is simply a dream, or if it means something more. However much I try to focus on her, the lake always draws my attention back, tugging at something that feels oddly familiar. She’s never clear, but the feeling she leaves behind lingers softly.That feeling stays with me, like waiting for someone I know but haven’t met. Some days it seems as if she’s connected to something inside me I don’t quite understand. Maybe someday I’ll come closer.I wouldn’t share these thoughts aloud they’d sound strange. But here, written quietly, they seem to belong. Here, they feel real.