Threshold Light

The last orange strip

on the highest brick,

a thin, perfect line

before it's gone.

Just a flicker, quick,

then the deep blue

swallows everything.

The window opposite

becomes a black mirror.

No reflection,

just the shape of absence.

It was there,

a moment ago,

a warmth, a promise.

Now, only the weight

of what’s coming.

The silence deepens,

not sound, but texture.

The air goes still,

a held breath

before the plunge.