(?)

Fingers pressed against the walls
fragile conglomeration

of cracks and splits

we have structured

with (in)

ourselves

dust feathers on our fingers.

brittle walls crumble

ponderously

we pull our heavy limbs out

from beneath the press

of what we know

we pass out

(of)

our constraints

we are free

( ?)

the unfamiliar snarls
our limbs
with fear
we move slowly

probing fingers

touching a picture

of what lies ahead

we move

(for)

(to)

ward

those fingers

paint a picture
show our empty hands
as mirrors
see our hearts

Here is

the heart

of all

our troubles

we can(not)

see.