22/02/2026
Can surrender be learned, or does it arrive only when the hands finally forget their shape as fists?
One lingers through a doorway of the in between.
Not in the leaving, not in the staying..
A soft nowhere where time has loosened its buttons.
In this liminal room where the old words fall quiet, and the new ones haven’t found their mouths yet.
If I surrender here, who is it that lets go?
The story I’ve been telling myself, or the silence underneath it?
There is a language that doesn’t speak.
It moves like weather through the body.
It presses its palm to the ribcage and says nothing, yet everything understands.
Something ancient leans closer, not to command me, only to feel if I am willing to be felt.
Such a delight to discover the other side of rope and build a beautiful connection with . So grateful our paths have crossed & such a joy to be in your rope. Thank you ♡
***ri ***riAlchemy