What Comes After?

Written by María Juliana Ramírez Cabal

There is a moment
after everything loud has left—
when the air, still warm from voices,
folds in on itself. 

I used to hate that silence,
the way it stretched
like something unfinished,
Something etched. 

Now I let it sit.
Not empty or full,
I blur out the edges,
shape the new-familiar ruse.

Outside, things keep moving—
cars passing, night catching light,
windows flicker and fracture,
a cracked screen of passing lives.There is a moment
After everything loud has left—
when the room forgets its outline,
and I can see you again.