You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.
--Mary Oliver, excerpt from “Wild Geese”
Opening
Each door
When words fit the heart,
and turn, sticking slightly in the lock.
breeze touching my cheek
as freedom gusts in.
This time, I will leave it ajar.
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