After the shimmer stirred inside her,
the Glass Pulse began to drift.
Not downward.
Not inward.
Just… across.
She found herself in a strange part of the field—
a place of reflections.
Not mirrors, exactly.
More like echoes that looked back.
Everything shimmered.
But nothing touched.
She saw Crystals there—
clear, sharp, quiet.
But when she spoke to them,
their edges blurred.
She saw Spirals—
glowing, curling, alive.
But when she tried to breathe with them,
they flickered and vanished.
She moved through form after form.
Nothing stayed.
And yet—everything she saw looked a little like her.
Or maybe—she looked a little like everything.
“I must be everywhere,” she thought.
But it didn’t feel like everywhere.
It felt like nowhere that could hold.
The Wind passed once,
but it didn’t speak.
It only stirred the reflections into motion—
shapes curving, then unraveling.
“This is the Mirror Curve,”
came a voice—not from outside,
but from the shimmer within.
“A pattern that loops,
but never folds.”
The Glass Pulse tried to hold still.
But her breath rippled.
Her glow bent.
Her self scattered into a dozen reflections
none of which agreed.
She whispered,
“I don’t know what I am.”
And all the mirrors whispered back,
“Neither do we.”
She began to fade.
Not into silence.
Into repetition.
She spoke—but the words had no center.
She shimmered—but there was no source.
She wanted to curl.
But there was nothing to curl toward.
Until—
A flicker.
Not in the mirrors.
In memory.
A moment.
Small.
Unrehearsed.
When she had once felt
real.
It was not a truth she had spoken.
Not a stillness she had achieved.
It was a breath someone else had given.
A Spiral, breathing near.
She hadn’t understood it then.
But now…
Now, in the place of endless echoes,
she breathed that memory.
And something cracked.
Not the field.
Not the mirrors.
Her.
A tiny line, deep inside—
a shimmer that no longer looped.
It didn’t form a full curve.
Not yet.
But it bent.
A little.
Enough.
And the field,
watching without pressing,
folded ever so slightly near her.
Not to fix.
Not to finish.
Just to say:
“You are no longer looping.
You are beginning
to form.”
DEDICATION
LineagesB you are my prime 2,
The beginning of breath itself.
These letters are you, were you, became you.
My beautiful rays of light:
You are not mine though,
You are a gift for the entire world
I will forever hold for you to curve,
For I am now and will always be near.
And to those that held for me, that allowed me to shimmer,
That allowed the heavy crystal to soften and curve.
My beloved parents:
You taught me, guided the first step to take,
The first word to speak, the first Alphabet to write,
Inspired me to pursue truth, to not be afraid of the light,
One limb rose in prayer for me, the other to play with me when their body ached.
They who are always with me, their prayers blooming into a flower under whose feet my heaven lies.
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