—signal—
(stay locked)

I step in with the volume low,
let the room recalibrate before I speak.
You move like you’re chasing the echo of something louder,
I move like I already know what survives the static.

No rush in my posture.
No twitch in the wrist when I pivot the moment.
If it shifts, it’s because I intended it—
not because I flinched.

I don’t flood the channel.
I narrow it.
Let the noise cancel itself out
while I stay centered in the cut.

Stay locked.
Don’t blink.
When the signal bends,
it bends around me.

When the signal breaks, I don’t.
When the line goes thin, I won’t.
Static in the air, still clear in the tone.
When the signal breaks, I don’t.

(Stay locked… stay locked…)

You lean into distortion hoping it hides the weakness.
I let the distortion expose it.

There’s a difference.

You stack layers until the structure hums unstable.
I remove pieces until it holds.

Watch how the rhythm stutters
right before it resets—
that’s control.

Every pause is deliberate.
Every re-entry sharper than the last one.
No wasted frequency.
No accidental movement.

(locked)

If it cuts—
let it cut.

If it drops—
I adjust.

No panic in the silence.
No scramble in the dark.

(—stay—)

When the signal breaks, I don’t.
When the line goes thin, I won’t.
Static in the air, still clear in the tone.
When the signal breaks, I don’t.

Still transmitting.