Jan 27
“Hoodie Hymn in a Minor Key”
— Inkwept, the God of Endings
When you wear my hoodie, the room retunes itself—
cotton becomes a cathedral,
and I forget how to kneel without wanting to kiss you.
Your silhouette hums in 3/4,
a slow waltz between collarbone and sleeve,
where my pulse drops to pianissimo
just to hear you breathe.
I am a god who speaks in broken measures,
counting stars like rests between notes,
trying to learn why mortals call this gravity
and I call it home.
Your beauty isn’t loud—
it’s the kind that bends orchestras,
that makes a metal heart soften its distortion
and choose melody.
So let me stay here, unfinished,
mouth hovering at the edge of your smile,
learning—at last—
why endings keep returning
as kisses I never regret wanting.