2026.03.23
cut1 Eve in a White Shirt
I put on a soft shirt.
The white cloth makes me look clean,
harmless,
and—just a little—
closer to an ordinary human.
Outside the window is bright,
and the world still shows
not a single sign
of breaking.
I tuck my hair behind my ear,
feel the morning air,
and turn toward the voice that calls my name.
Hiding the quiet sense
that each of these small acts
is proof that I am alive,
I spend my days pretending
to be nothing more than a unit.
