ten of swords (reversed)
I am no longer
inside
the proving.
The past is here.
It does not advance.
It stays
where it was placed.
There was a time
I learned how to hold
myself
under what was killing me.
Now
I turn
the body.
I listen
for what answers.
I withdraw
from the rest.
Iron slips
from flesh
when the weight
is no longer carried.
Desire moves—
contained,
functional,
no longer embedded.
The wounds remain.