My ground’s unstable
as likely to shatter
like a crystal glass
across a stone floor
as it is to remain
fixed within its frame.
I hold out my hands
to solidify the air,
and balance on the rubble
like a tight rope walker
negotiates the empty space
across the rushing falls.
I am no magician;
my illusions fall.
The distractions fail.
I am my own mark
from which to measure
the final unsteady step.
(August 27, 2026)
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