A silver of light
cuts the darkness
like a whisper too quiet
to be heard aloud.

Through the keyhole,
the world narrows
into a trembling moment,
a breath held between silence and revelation.

You see
what you're not meant to see:
a gesture,
a shadow,
a truth too bare
to exist in the open.

The frame is small,
but what lies beyond it
is vast,
a story unfolding
without knowing it's watched.

And you,
caught between presence and absence,
feel the weight
of a door
that may never open.