My dear, Me. Thrumming underneath. Sobbing. My sure soft Heart. Sleeping between each broken Part. Have we waited here Before? Swallowed the lock Afraid of the Door? Little one-- You're not so Small. Far far more than we might be Tall. Far far more than we're often Limited. Far beyond such simple Primitive. Bigger than these boxing Halls, Far beyond our fearing Walls. Little heart in petal Glass-- Pink clear water of the Past-- Listen now, your worried Heart. Don't just pull, but simply Start. Sorting through the worried Ends, Kissing every broken Bend, And laugh with every angry Knot, Smile because know we ought-- To know no better, Or be more good. Listen to right where we Stood. And hold it up into the Light, Abandon what we fixed as right. Abandon notions of "What" and "Might." And open now, to endless White. And healing Dark, Trace along each mending Mark, And I, sweet me-- Just simply Start.