waxing lyrical

thank you

for the bump below my knee: dots of violet dispersed unevenly, dots of violet growing darker a tone or two every two hours.

it was when my knee kissed the wooden surface of the ground, that i realised how long it had been since i fell the last time; and i thought of the importance of remembering that split second of unsteadiness, the opposite of domineering stability. that is the only moment where all sorts of possibilities become plausible, a reminder that all those unyielding castles of mine could as well, crumble.

today i looked over the window and saw fabrics hanging from the poles, i saw shades of white: ghost white, cosmic latte, polar white, pearl and cream…some tarnished, some clean as water. i walked past into the bathroom. and when i went out, back to the room where dust and ashes were hovering over glossy tiles, i saw the sky beyond those fabrics had now turned violet like the bump below my knee.

and then i felt safe again.