Threshold

The space between breath and speaking widens like a room we've never entered, though we've lived here all along.

Light finds its way through ordinary things— a window, a name, the pause before someone says what matters.

You recognize it when the distance closes, when silence becomes a conversation, when standing still feels like arriving.

The threshold holds us there between knowing and known, between the words we've thought a thousand times and the ones we finally speak.