AGED PARCHMENT / NIGHT SKY OUTSIDE AN AIRPLANE WINDOW
Your body holds ancient wisdom you can’t even name. So you invented vocabulary, created a dictionary, and assigned feelings to words. The door is always open but there’s food and honey on the table and spiders in the corner. And even though you've been told there's wonder and rivers, you don’t dare go outside; it’s the same as going in. Flying was for birds and gods. Now here you are among them, speaking the same language.