Care full of corners and care full of holes, like a labyrinth game with a ball. Care takes you under; there are days when you wonder how anyone skirts the fall.

At times it’s too late or too heavy, the spider-silk weight on your heart. Or too tight. But it is what we’ve got. There are days when the thought of it’s all that can keep me from flight.

So do it. Care freely, care broken, care kneeling, like fingers just gripping the sill. Care like your life depends on it, and it will, and it will, and it will.