faith is expensive to taste,
and time is borrowed loose change
that's already been spent.

maybe the soul is the tone of voice
that unearthed the words that we needed...

maybe the soul is a suitcase that holds the backup plan -
a collection of keys and the patience we need
to start again.

maybe it's the thresholds that swallow us whole
as we learn to let go,
in spite of the dirt on our clothes.