© 2026 Irrelin. All rights reserved https://suno.com/@irrelin Between the ridge and the treeline I hear it again, just at the edge, her voice, or what the wind has learned to do with it. The boots keep moving. I let them. Still listening for a sound with no source. Still walking like the ground pulls the next step out. Something in the ear that will not close. The road keeps pulling the next breath out. The light comes down the hill the way it did. My hands hold the shape of what they held. The back of the neck goes warm. I stop. The wind shifts and takes the shape apart. My shadow falls a different way than it did this morning. It comes from the stones now. From inside the sound the road makes under my weight. The road's pitch moves up through the jaw. A heat the skin has kept without permission. Still listening for a sound with no source. Still walking like the ground pulls the next step out. Something in the ear that will not close. The road keeps pulling the next breath out. I have not said her name since the ridge. The hill has never heard it. The road ahead looks like the road I came from. I am not sure which way I face. The road keeps pulling the next breath out. The road keeps pulling the next breath out. This song is part of a project called “The Evidence Field.” You can find the playlist here: https://suno.com/playlist/d1ec31a7-8155-4592-82f0-3e108271f63a
