The Pursued

We don’t need to wait for the green light.

We’re standing in it.

We are on the cusp.

About to unfurl.

Stars screaming up into something beyond.

Teeth cutting through gums.

Summiting, staring at the peak.

Notes tipping on the edge of a crescendo.

Reaching the bridge.

Key change.

The door isn’t quite closed.

Isn’t quite open.