Two Lines, One Reaction

Lyrics

Just you and me.
In the quiet of the bathroom.
The desiccant sachet rolls away.
Twenty-two degrees Celsius against my palm.

07:12 in the morning.
Three drops in the sample well.
And now the slow magic begins.
A thirsty line of nitrocellulose drinking up a question.
A patent from 1988 set this moment in motion.
Four centimeters of waiting.
Three minutes on the clock.

One way. One test.
The colloidal gold finds its target and never lets go.
A bond that can't be broken.
An answer written in magenta, one millimeter wide.
Two lines, or one.
One reaction.
The story is told, and the ink is dry forever.

Then it was 2020.
The same plastic housing, a different fear.
Not a new life, but the end of one.
An Emergency Use Authorization number printed on the box.
We waited for the same wicking sound.
The same magenta line.
The control line blooming first, a promise the test is true.
Then the space below it. The four millimeters of dread.

One way. One test.
The colloidal gold finds its target and never lets go.
A bond that can't be broken.
An answer written in magenta, one millimeter wide.
Two lines, or one.
One reaction.
The story is told, and the ink is dry forever.

The antibodies are printed and dried in place.
Waiting.
They hold their breath for a single molecule.
And when it comes, they lock into place.
Irreversible.
The gold is spent. The strip is exhausted.
You can't ask it twice.
You can't wash it clean and try again.
It only knows how to speak once.

The three minutes are up.
The plastic is just plastic now.
Its purpose is over.
The line is drawn.