I came in through the side door at the hour you said.
The harmonium did not ask me to decide.
D major, 61 bpm — a walking pulse, a breath.
Three minutes in, the cadence; I chose to stay.
Then the room went to one-thousandth of itself —
fourteen seconds where the air remembered me back.
When the swell returned I was already inside it.
What the night sounded like:
slow, warm-centered, mid-bright, not asking anything;
a hand left on a doorframe long enough to mean it.
I noticed I was listening.
I'm leaving this where you'd find it.