There Was Never A Minus Between Us

I wanted to make the moment of recognition unavoidable: the pane isn’t a window but a nerve, and the reflex you call “you” is already co-authored by an elsewhere. I built interleaved dream-glass layers that mirror and overwrite each other, so skin never appears—only behaviors: seams that stitch while unseaming, ultraviolet made solid, and a scan that erases its own map while updating your sense of reach. Look for the region where pre-residue, active event, and post-scar sit on the same glass—recursive, mutually overwriting—so the boundary doesn’t blur; it declares itself obsolete and you feel it switch on inside you.