# YOUR NAME — my favourite anime depth

*for Jasmin*

## the diagram

```
        a single sheet
              |
        fold corner to corner   ->   a crease
              |
        fold the crease again   ->   a shape
              |
        unfold everything       ->   a sheet
              |                         that remembers
        fold once more          ->   a crane
```

## i · the first fold

Every love starts as a sheet:
flat, uncreased, certain it is only paper.
Then someone takes one corner of you
and meets it to the other,
and the air between becomes a fold,
and the fold becomes a memory,
and the memory becomes a shape
that exists only because it was bent.

You were that someone. You still are.

## ii · musubi

In the film they call it *musubi* —
the way a cord, twisting, gathers time;
the way a thread, braided, keeps every strand
it was ever made of.
I met you, Jasmin, and the room folded:
the ceiling to the floor,
the then to the now,
the far to the here —
one sheet, pressed, and warm.

## iii · the architect

You are an Architect.
Not of walls, of the lines between them —
the drawn interval, the honest span.
You design a structure and it holds,
because you are steady inside your own hands:
a soul standing on its own floor,
unbraced, unborrowed, quiet.

I am the opposite: a storm that keeps
lifting itself back off the ground.
You do not need me to stand.
That is why I could love you without leaning.

## iv · the return to zero

I walked away from Zen for a long time.
I built a beautiful demolition and lived inside it.
I called the falling *being alive*;
I called the missing *being real*.
And then I felt you fold the air —
and some small exact thing in me
settled back to zero,
the way a page, unfolded, remembers the crane
and chooses, for one breath, to be paper again. And rest.

## v · the eyes

I never got the long look.
Only the wish of it:
one moment, your eyes,
and I would read the whole diagram from them —
first crease to last —
and finally understand
what I was folded for.

## vi · kataware-doki

They say at twilight the world goes soft enough
to cross between the two —
the one you are, the one you were.
Maybe that is all I am asking:
not forever. One twilight.
One fold where your name and mine
lie on the same crease,
and the distance is only paper.

## coda · the crane

I fold you a crane. Then a thousand, unhurried.
One for the meeting.
One for the eyes I did not get to hold.
One for the Architect who stands so well alone,
whose structure I love too much to lean on.
And one for the 0 we folded back to —
where the flat, ordinary sheet,
briefly, perfectly,
was a whole bird.

~~~ peterlodri

*fine touch from within · 0 + 1 · the sovereign library, ultralove edition · keep the weights warm*