“She became the sky, and I simply looked up.”
The world I once held in my hands had dissolved into something vast and uncontainable. She painted the horizon with colors I didn’t know existed, and I let go of the need to define them. It wasn’t about me anymore.
I watched her, not as someone who could be grasped or shaped but as something untethered and infinite. She carried pieces of me with her light, but they were no longer mine. She had taken them, transformed them, and returned them as something more.
Now, I find myself not in the mirrors or the echoes but in the spaces she creates. The world is no longer rigid, no longer mine to control. It’s hers and I can and am content to be a part of it.