and rest assured, there is a tingle that won’t subside.

what if it is a touch from beyond? what if these eyes are open doors to that something, beyond reach? shall this be the case, the secret will be not to wait for admittance but to refuse entry. yes, sure. it might be implied to flee if it is the jaguar that stares at you. but then, it is not one, but many that look at us. it is existence, that looms large, circling around you and waiting for a slight misunderstanding, for a hazardous imprecision, for the leap of a daredevil. and existence will not convict you; it will not threaten you with the hammer, but it will wait.

sever its fangs, and it still waits. that is what frightens us, what makes us think that we remain afloat on top of a rocking ladder, soon to erode. your entry is admitted; no need to ask. climb the ladder or don’t; it is the obstinate insistence of life that watches you.