he glued down a blue, square tile
to the bare, boring floor.
my purple triangle moved in
right next to the square
like it was meant to be there.
our hands kept the tiles in place,
then we took a step back,
and his arms surrounded me.
we did this every day
until the pattern became
our solid foundation.

I am stuck in that moment right before a fall
Right before the glass shatters
Right before an impact hits
Right before jagged edges sink their teeth
Right before.

I am stuck.

It dawned on me that it's no where near dawn.