The cabinets grain swirled and spun into a waterspout above the sink.
The walls began to breathe.
The tile switched spots beneath my feet.

The spinning, the movement,
the color brought back in-
It concerns me now
but it never has before.

Carpeting that was once dull is now thick lush hair to run my fingers through.
The ticking of the ceiling fan is the metronome to the pads of my feet grazing the ground.
Keeping me in time,
Keeping me in rhythm.

I can feel him moan beneath my fingertips.
I lay my head down on the floor.
The rise and fall of a chest,
I can feel it.
He's trapped here.
I can feel it.
I swear the same thing is always on my mind.

"Success is as dangerous as failure. Hope is as hollow as fear." - from Tao Te Ching