Vulnerable, projecting our fears into the empty space between us. We stand. Assessing. Who will give, who will trust. The mug in my hand, a relic from a past heartbreak. Ginger tea, a more recently acquired obsession. Your blue eyes are crisp and sharp, I try not to make eye contact for too long, I fear you might turn and run. A delicate weaving of movement, careful conversation. We don’t know each other yet, we are still calculating, measuring each other's safeness. We are baby birds. Falling from a nest... waiting for our legs to break.