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Tension.
Feel the walls bow,
the coefficient of restitution of a soap bubble,
feel the net sink, 
accepting new weight given it,
and rebound.
The evening after has strength,
painted over the despair of the morning after.

***

If time doesn't pass
Nothing will happen
Yet

***

Late autumn under a white sky,
blown into a perfect rainbow
from the purple horizon to the blue dome,
rose into cornflower without a cloud,
a bubble centered on your eyes.
And even now, it's beautiful to live.

***

Wings of the storm:
Let it swirl around you, let it whistle in your ears,
let its chaos touch you, let it hollow out your bones,
spinning closer and closer to the eye of your being,
and you are centered.
It spins down,
and you are without feeling, without thought, without opinion.
Let the storm decide.
Let the wind carry you away.