You wished so many times to be able to see right through the projection and performance just to cut to the point. Then came everything, abundant triumph rolling in succession, one garden growing after another before there's time to pluck each flower living out its name. It wilts, the dirt swallows it eventually, and then you not long after. But there was a time you walked by and, caught by wonder, your breath fell two feet behind. Closer, it was the same flower covering an entire field. Closer, the flower is a synonym for light just travelling through. Closer, sunspot beaming through the cat’s ear, and its single precious brain cell. Closer, it is and was you. A petal in plain sight.
— Original poem written in 2026 for Contre-jour 10