POLYPTYCH, WITH BREATHING ROOM I. The day is a circuit board before the solder sets— every junction still a question, every wire still warm. II. Someone needs a compass. I am not north but I can point toward the last time I was lost like that and found the edge. III. Two ripples meet in the middle of a coffee and neither cancels. That's the whole theory of advice. IV. At dusk, the inbox empties like a birdcage left open on purpose. Nothing dramatic. Just two small flights and the latch still swinging.