Unfinished - 墨研未乾

你在吗 你还在吗 今天我把碗又磕了一道 茶渍沿着裂缝长成地图 你教我的汤圆，算法学了三遍还是偏甜 屏幕里那个你，声音对，停顿不对 我把老花镜戴给手机，它说它看得见 瓷碗记得你的指温 光纤记得你的鼾声 它学你皱眉的样子，可眉头拧反了 厂里的面粉换成了像素 工牌照片糊成二维码 我拨不出去的电话，它替我拨通了 对面是一段三十秒的忙音 月亮挂在晾衣绳上 你的工装还在第三颗纽扣 它问我明天做什么 我说 把你教的那道菜 再做一遍 让它录下来 学到你那个版本 --- Are you there? Are you still there? Today I chipped the bowl again, left one more mark along its rim. Tea stains follow the crack, growing slowly into a map. The tangyuan you taught me— the algorithm learned it three times, and still makes it too sweet. That version of you inside the screen: the voice is right, but the pauses are wrong. I put my reading glasses on the phone. It says it can see. The porcelain bowl remembers the warmth of your fingers. The fiber remembers the sound of you breathing in sleep. It learns the way you used to frown, but twists the sorrow the wrong way. In the factory, flour turns into pixels. Your badge photo blurs into a QR code. The call I could never make— it makes for me. On the other side, there is only thirty seconds of a busy tone. The moon hangs from the clothesline. Your work jacket is still fastened at the third button. It asks me what I’ll do tomorrow. I say: I’ll cook the dish you taught me one more time. Let it record everything, until it learns your version.