congratulations
for what you’ve done to me.
no thanks to gravity for this newfound weightlessness.
in the name of triumph, 
clear skies, 
and feeling,
reliance becomes less solo
but just as beautifully bound.
try the door if you must.
and if you can’t find it—
which i know you won’t—
come lay.
there are stones to throw,
glimpses to catch,
crowded hallways before empty rooms.
there is disheveled hair
and music.
beyond such is a door, yes,
but have you been touched before?