Pulse of Absence
Beneath the iron surface of the pole, a rhythmic thrum vibrates against your palm like a wet heartbeat through cold metal. These hollow cavities do not merely house air; they pulse with an organic intent that suggests the structure itself is breathing. As you press closer to the jagged fissures, the distinction between skin and steel begins to blur into a single, shuddering motion. The boundary dissolves, leaving only the quiet warmth of a shared existence.