This is not quite an attraction
to those that are broken,
not quite attachment
to being broken,
liquid viscous, puddling out

This focus on the dark thick quick
and the way light shines bright
on the slick of black
is not the crux of the thing.
The pull is to go through,
the bubble closing back behind me,
space stretching huge, opening ever out

The desire is to bring back
the essence of sky
and the way to find it lofting out inside,
lifting up the prospects
from where they had been caged,
shining them out,
as sky is always vast,
releasing them into their freedom.

©Wendy Mulhern
January 31, 2022