Bright doors 

 
Think about the 

Intense fragility of a flower  

This multiplicity of nodes and 

Density of lines – 

An infinite grid structuring each 

subtle rise and fall 

In surface 

These bones are all stubborn barrenness

Yet they do not collapse 

In the darkness my fingers 

knead the rounds of my joints

And count the longs of my ribs

I can make no constellations 

Of the lights within me 

These stars that blink, like dots, surface to centre  

I am but a little bundle 

of loss and longing 

Wanting to feel my body  

Close to me 

But see, the light begins to shine from beyond the door 

Calling me to remember these things: 

From fragmentation comes wholeness 

From turmoil comes peace 

I am shattered, but I also heal 

After all, I am still dreaming 

In silver shards and bright doors

After all, I am still standing 

I am still breathing 

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