there was a crack in the door and a crack in me. something lifted as the bamboo reached towards the ceiling. and all my days broke loose as if i had no containment, constrictions or certification to be here. i held your hand empty of thinking or past reflection. every direction pointed elsewhere as the bamboo turned to listen. there is stepping and stonewalls, there were no words, only a shadow of what was and a crack in the door.
the days timing sings with feathers release secured joy laughs at the mirror