Double Vision

One eye in wonder, one in the grocery store line— I reach for the apples and feel the pulse of another world threading through my fingers. The cashier smiles; Does he sense the shimmering? Does he see the temple I carry in the curve of my spine? I smile back, but I am already elsewhere— following the blue pulse moving through the trees behind him, just out of reach. I'm learning not to run from the wound, nor chase the fire— but to walk with both, light and shadow, braided in my breath. To live between worlds is to be split and stitched again and again— bleeding a little each time I return. This is the path of those who remember: we were never meant to choose between earth and sky.