There is a slightly open door in front of me

There is a light slit where traces of my own shadow pass

I try to see what is on the other side, how is the other side, who is on the other side, but the shadows are all I see

When I look at them long enough, I come across the door

I look at its colors, I feel its texture

I hear and feel the wind coming through the opening

I shiver and feel the contour of my body

I notice the surface where I rest my feet

I touch the doorknob as if it were the only possible movement in this encounter

in composition with the traces - I see myself as a whole person

I feel.

I'm where I've always been, here

and now I can see the other side, where I am now.