I walk a path of in-betweens;
Of not-quites
and almosts--
Scattershot potential
spread before me
In infinite array.
But I am filled
Filled enough,
so that even on this narrow path
of scattershot possibility,
bordered by almost
and limned in not-quite,
I lift my eyes
Up--
Raised,
like mountains or breath,
In a limitless ascent.
