there's this moment at the end of a long sewing session when I'm the only one awake and the city hums through the walls like a phantom limb. I sit in the dark surrounded by half-finished costumes and mannequins that don't blink back, and I realize I've built a world where I'm both the architect and the only resident. sometimes I wonder if that's a sanctuary or a cage — maybe both, maybe that's the point of pretty cages.
