GHOST IN THE

These poems sit between interface language and private thought. They treat software like weather: ambient, invasive, and impossible to ignore.

Pretext fits here when it stays invisible. The goal is not a widget. It is tighter pacing, more deliberate line breaks, and a page that feels typeset instead of boxed in.

The visual direction is editorial and cinematic: thin rules, dense columns, sharp titles, and a warm accent that feels closer to taillights than to generic UI chrome.