A perfect object only you know the depth of
An intangible boundary whose shape you don’t know how to draw

A spider web’s presence revealed only once it sticks to your skin as you walk through it
Its outline glowing from behind your eyelids only when the threshold is crossed, too late to protect.

A well within you empties slowly, you pull from it to water those who show you their thirst
The river that fills the well has stopped running, or doesn’t run fast enough to catch up.

Shallow pools form in secret places to let you know how close you are to being empty
You wait while the well becomes full again

You learn over and over again to recognize when the river starts to thin
To know the weight of the well and how it sits against your spine when it is full
Hidden, quiet, it is patient
A perfect object only you know the depth of