What in your life has folded back on itself?
How did you first recognize your past come again?
Which door has been flung open?
What was the weather on the other side of the threshold?
Did you pass through?
Which “other shoe” has dropped? Who dropped it
and where did it land?
Will you – can you – wear it again?
How did you give in to the pull
and keep on your feet?
What unexpected pleasure did you find in this tension?
And what of your crown?
Would you banish the dust specks from a ray of sunlight?
Where would you send them?
What names do you give the creatures
that cling to your eyelashes?
Have you ever heard them sing
A lament for your dead cells?
What goes and what stays in the ecosystem of your skin?
What do you do with the bathwater?
Where is there a space for spiders in your house?
In which corner do the dark spirits gather to dance?
What would the wind sing if they were all to leave?
On what patch of earth will you unpack your lunch?
How do you weigh the balance of a puppy’s kiss
and an impeccable soul?
Where do you spread your wings
and reveal all of your beauty?
Who benefits without knowing?
Whom might it frighten – and why?
Do you care?
What does shame taste like?
What is the smell of abandon?
Map your territory.
When do you settle on a small patch of earth –
alone and fertile?
What are the results of a season’s brooding?
Where do you extend yourself to your limits?
How do you know when you’ve reached them?
How do you keep your balance in this position?
What is the shape of the word that comes to mind?