it was all sunshine
part III of The Week It Shifted
It was all sunshine
The water still ran.
Your hand
was still in mine.
Warm.
Then not.
Then warm again, in the wrong way
The yard went quiet
I turned.
You were still there, smiling at me
from a distance
Too far. Too still. Too patient.
I don’t remember letting go of your hand.
But something is still holding mine.
And when it leaned in,
it said my name
in your voice.
It was all sunshine… until it wasn’t.
The final part of The Week It Shifted.
The poem is above.
There’s a deeper version of this ending on Patreon – one that lingers a little longer than it should.
Content notes (a little heavier for this one) are at the top.
This gave me chills. The shift happens almost invisibly: "Your hand / was still in mine. / Warm. / Then not." Those tiny breaks carry more weight than long explanations ever could. And the ending—"something is still holding mine… it said my name in your voice"—captures that unsettling space where grief and memory become impossible to separate. Beautifully restrained, and because of that, deeply haunting.
The first read gave me chill. The second read break my heart.
I don't know what you meant by this but to me ce as a great loss of love.