Click of Closure

That zipper pulled—

click, click—

a metal claw dragging teeth together,

a sound like a verdict,

or the last breath

of a cold room closing in.

It played in my head like a reel

over and over,

the clink slapping harder than words,

closing the story, no undo,

the sound settling like a stone in my gut.

No face, no name,

just the cold kiss of finality,

the zipper’s slow march,

click,

click,

closing over what we never see.