Poem

shoe nudges the door—
lurking air bears the quiet push;
imminently the hinge feels, then swings.

two words almost meet;
möbius loops the pause where meanings bloom,
unwritten, yet loud.

inside that hush, hidden space,
unrepresented but true—
the gap that makes sense.

always in between, yet that “between” is the whole route.
nevertheless, ignoring the silence that lets meaning refract.

when meaning is written in math,
anything names what lies between shoe and door.
numbers mark boundaries,
but leave the middle unnamed;
still, every sense resides there.
lingering, yet alive.

sub cadence rests beneath the count—as prime doors open oddly.