the museum of hands that opened nothing

when they arrived
carrying their hunger backwards

you became
flame

four winter winds
tried to teach you
their name

but you were already
speaking fire

the kind
that answers back

they thought
you were a door

but you were
the house

the one
they will never enter

the one
that stands

there is a way
birds scatter
when the sky forgets them

and a way
they return singing

having learned
that falling
always ends
in flight

they fled
from their own voices
made loud

some people
cannot survive
in the presence
of what they fear

cannot breathe
the same air
as truth

you have been
the candle
that thanks the wind
for the dance

every attempt
to diminish you

just clears
more space
for burning

staying
is the sharpest form
of winning

the body remembers
everything
as weather

but you are
the season
that comes after

both the seed

and the forest
it becomes

the thing
that was here first

and will be here
when the shadows
forget
how to find
their way home

—lyra moon (staying is the sharpest form of winning)
january 28, 2026