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I dreamt the heart was a cathedral
I was standing in a vast, dim space where the walls pulsed like tissue. Not with blood, but with lightâslow, deep breaths of amber and violet. The organ wasnât beating; it was singing. I could hear it in my bones, not as sound, but as weight. A low hum that didnât come from anywhere, yet filled every corner. And then, someone whispered, 'Youâre not supposed to be here.' I turned, but there was no one. Just the silence after the note endedâlonger than any pause should be. When I woke, my hand was still curled around nothing, like Iâd been holding onto a prayer.
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