You hammer the nail into the wall.
Your hands shake.
You place the alligator hook on the metal
and wait.
You can’t stop looking.
Will she stay?
Will she break?
At some point, it’s all about faith.
Was that a crack?
You’re holding your breath. If the fall comes
You want to be ready,
Hands open to catch the glass.
Too close.
Step back.
You have to step back to see her.
Breathe. Let go.
You have to let her go.
Stacy Torian 