A bay that weighs height, not vibes

Suite 3 smells like coffee and damp wool because the door opens onto Jefferson in a rain month.

Eloise built the balance from a lab beam a university surplus sale did not know how to catalog. You set the head. We find the rest point. We mark height against the copper ruler on the wall, the one with ticks that look like a tide. That is not poetry. That is a stack.