I am touched by finding how ‘opening’ is really both noun and verb.
Perhaps icing is, or yearning. But an opening seems such a stable thing. It can be an opening in a thousand-year-old castle wall. Or an opening in a ten thousand-year-old rock face. Or a fleshier, but still lifelong, way into, or out of, the human body. Or, with more movement, it can be a centuries-old way to start a game of chess or a conversation with a stranger. Or it can become the widening apart of lips, of arms, of eyes. So that, with the addition only of movement, the merest slit or gap or finger hold or hollow can become the very act itself of disclosing, inviting, revealing, waking, communicating, displaying, smiling, embracing, releasing, relinquishing or dying. |