sometimes it is the things that are not said between the things that are, a glimpse and a crevice of what could have been and who you could be.
my mind is a remote that skips away the possibilities.
you might as well be anyone.
and if our fingers ever click into place like metacarpal puzzle pieces, do not be alarmed.
we are only ever malleable metals shaped by need- press onto me.
i will bend before i break.