Not every day,
But in the slick-sweat stickiness of this moment
You dare to peek in the keyhole
Of Pandora's black box
And as with an accident causing disruption on the road
It is an effort to pull your eyes away
From the disaster inside.
The mind plays with architecture:
Bridge the gap,
A door closing.
I stand in the doorway
While my foundation shudders around me.
I don't know where I should stand.
And after this moment...
What then? Where do I build?