Perfectly Present, Perfectly Absent

He enters the room already agreeing, the silence perfectly formed. Nothing about him

asks for notice, nothing resists the form. The chords arrive like settled weather,

warm aligned, already there. He steps into them without friction, as if they've

been waiting for his weight. He knows the price of being

reasonable, the comfort of approved delays. Every thought has learned its posture,

every doubt its proper place. He speaks in calibrated sentences, soft enough not

to bend the air. Meaning travels safely through him, never stopping,

never staying. Something pulls against the harmony, a shade too late,