the expanse of hallway outside my hotel door
seems to go on forever
the space seems to embody an otherworldly feeling
between our world and some other
indescribable place
is it comforting or claustrophobic?
I used to visit our small town mall
when I was young, it was bustling with life
it had a movie theater
with endearingly tacky Electra-Dye carpets,
an arcade, and a Borders bookstore.
years passed, and the place became a husk.
movie theaters are on the decline,
and the bookstore went bankrupt.
malls are shutting down all over the world
due to the popularity of online shopping
and digital streaming.
movie theater architecture no longer looks like
an odyssey into space,
but a hotel lobby with neutral colors.
humanity left it all behind.
we gave these spaces life with our humanity.
the liminal spaces were alive with the
frenetic energy of living.
they were meant to be inhabited.
I visited our local mall.
there were only a few other people.
it felt like I wasn't supposed to see it that way— devoid of life, devoid of the meaning
humanity described it.
it became a relic of the past.
I wandered the hallways
and saw the movie posters they displayed.
the showings were from seasons before,
and they were peeling off the walls.
it felt like I was left behind too.
liminal zones are really the state in between
the past and the present,
nostalgia and the modern age.
the walls were just walls.
the carpets just carpets.
but my memories gave it meaning.
if birth is the beginning and death is the end
life is the liminal space.

melancholy and sublime
delicate and ethereal.
floating harmonies and rolling notes like waves
one can envision the silvery moonlight
reflecting upon themselves
the radiant moon filtering through windowpanes
the leaves of a tree.

I have tasted sweet waters
with crystalline honey and sugared petals.
I have tasted sour milk that curdles on my tongue,
that leaves me coughing.
I had wandered through the moors of purgatory
with eyes like an empty vase.
Once I found Arcadia,
I looked back.
Because how could I leave it all behind?
It was all I ever known.

As sweet as summer rain
Elusive like a melody
From a dream.
I waited for you
On the bridge
I thought I heard your voice.

Your fingers caressed the keys
like a gentle waltz
I was utterly transfixed
by the way you carried a conversation
I shivered at each note
the melody resonated within
You were telling the piano about me.

I hope I do not fade away
like the stars at dawn.
A footprint
left on the desert sand;
a dream that is lost to memory.

Just like the moonflower, I too, wilt at dawn’s first breath.