A sphere
that holds
its breath
Before reaction, only potential. The skin is glass-tense. Inside, a question that has not yet decided how to answer itself.
First
shiver
of becoming
A frequency arrives uninvited. The surface remembers it knew how to vibrate. Something internal begins to glow — not yet light, but the rumor of it.
Skin
opens like a
letter
Hairline rivers branch the curve. Through them, an interior brilliance answers a question no one asked. The sphere is no longer a sphere. It is a sentence about to be spoken.
The shape
of just before
A held inhale at the lip of the diving board. Geometry distorts toward something it cannot yet imagine. The orb is no longer one thing — it is the rumor of many.
Yes.
It happens. It happens. It happens.
everything
that was
becomes
everything else
Aftermath, but tender. A nebula in the shape of a sigh. Particles who used to be a sphere choose, instead, to be a garden.