Forward

stairways of desire, Ferrari-led dreams,
maps traversed by wheels and wings
each step a pulse of motion,
each passage a door unlatched.

And yet— in the backyard of sunlight,
smiles bloom like budding stars,
reminding me:
every step was an achievement,
every choice a completed orbit.

No regrets,
only the quiet refusal to retrace the path already sung.

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What Do You See #342