Stilled but not Quieted

Swathed in the luxuriant
velvet darkness of your cloth,
using strength I did not know I possessed,
I tear at the fabric and rip a space.
a jagged opening to a dawn sky,
blue but still dark enough to reflect
a river of stars, of possibilities.
My tear is imperfect but it has
rent the darkness.
At least now I can breathe and speak.