the world collapses
then unfolds,
a broken door
that won't stay closed—
unlatched, unhinged,
untethered by
the waking world,
a rope untied.
beneath the lintel
i pass through
into a realm
recalled by few—
not here nor there,
not new nor old,
not high nor low,
not warm nor cold—
a middle ground,
a balance struck,
a goal to reach
with any luck;
both far away
and close to home,
a journey i
must take alone,
between the columns,
past the breach,
where two dimensions
slowly meet
like fog meets air,
and flames meet smoke,
or ivy vines
each other choke
and neither wins,
they only join,
together wrapped
until they're one
