„Reflecting that subtle, internal shift – touching ourselves not to feel, but to understand that we don’t.
„
Elise
Theresa
Lisa
Anouk
You think you know. And then, no. You don’t.
Not memory, not skin, not the weight of another’s breath.
Not really.
What remains is a presence without sound -
a nearness that erases borders,
a gesture paused before it becomes touch.
We are powerless against our time,
but we remember.
We remember the trauma, the love, the loss -
and we try to understand.
(Marguerite Duras knew:
Love and war occupy the same room in the dark.)