Such pressure

    to write

every moment

    of every day

and make them

    beautiful

even though

    I am afraid.

I link these

    severed chains

and toss the stone

    into your lap.

Drag me

    down the halls;

sweep me

    across the floor.

Two waterfalls,

    and a single flow.

A centered spiral,
    where we converge

into paper

    and into color.