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Breathing Space
There are forms of understanding that do not depend on words.
What matters to me is not emptiness alone,
but the breath that can arise within space.
When something is placed there,
distance begins to relate.
A presence alters its surroundings.
Breath appears between things.
Space itself can breathe —
sometimes through tension,
sometimes through nearness,
sometimes through quiet release.
What I place is not only form,
but relation, distance, and breath.
How this is perceived may differ:
as stillness,
as tension,
as presence,
or simply as air.
That difference is left open.
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