Geneviève Draws a Door

from Emma’s voice [Verse 1] She’s only two— But she draws with the calm of someone who’s seen too much moonlight. Not stick figures or suns. Circles with cracks. Lines like mirrors. She doesn’t look up when we speak. She hums. Same melody every time. The one we thought was ours. But it came from somewhere else. [Chorus] Geneviève, where do you go when your hands begin to move that slow? When your eyes don’t blink, and your breath falls deep— Like a song too old for sleep? [Verse 2] We asked her what it meant. She said, “It opens.” Didn’t say what. Didn’t say when. The pediatrician said it might be memory. Ancestral. A leak in the dreamline. But how do you explain a child who draws what no one showed her? Who hums in rooms she’s never seen? [Pre-Chorus] The symbol repeats. In chalk. In dust. In sleep. [Chorus] Geneviève, what do you see when your fingers draw so patiently? Is it past or future in your hand— Or a door that understands? [Bridge] (Mmm… la da… mmm…) A song the mirror couldn’t hide. A shape she dreamed from the other side. [Final] Geneviève, what have we missed— in your silence, in your fist? You’re drawing doors we can’t ignore… And we are not the ones they’re for.