In the shell of a broken radio, memory grows like a sail. The wind of memories inflates the fabric among dead wires. A silent sail rises up, ready to defy the echo. The extinguished voice sings silence, yet air becomes memory. The sail absorbs lost voices and arranges them in the heart. Every static beat becomes a sail that gains height. Now the radio is sea; the sail navigates without course but with faith. Memory grows, lighting small lights among the waves of night. When the song falls silent, a sail remains within us that sings silence.