decisions are portals

on every version of you still becoming

decisions are portals.

you don’t feel it
when you step through.

just this life,
narrowing so slowly
until the walls
are close enough to touch.

but somewhere,
a world you made
with a single yes
is taking its first breath.

somewhere,
you let yourself be loved.
somewhere,
you refused to swallow your silence.
somewhere,
you stayed long enough
to see it get better.

she has your face,
your history,
the same hands,
the same fears
just aimed elsewhere.
becoming what you couldn’t.

you don't see her.
but sometimes
you feel the pull of her
like a second gravity.

not regret.
not exactly.

just the sense
that something is happening
without you.
and that it always will.

she is laughing
at a table
you haven't sat at.
breathing easier
than you do.

and because she is me,
i feel it
the way you feel
the sun behind clouds.

when i close my eyes,
the walls of this room go thin.

i can feel them—
every life
that branched from mine.

salt from a coast
i’ve never reached.
a steadiness
i don’t recognize.
an ease
of entering a room
and belonging.

not strangers.
not separate.
the same pulse
moving through matter.

i am not one life.
i am every crossing
still unfolding.

and even here—
in this narrow room,
in this difficult body,
i am infinite.

and when i dream,
we find each other.

they let me wear
their unburdened faces.

i wake less alone,
with their light
still on my hands.