a hesitation

What do I know,
what do I know.

You just appeared and put
something in my hand
and closed the fingers,
without telling me
what is that.

Then you closed the door behind.

Now I feel something small
quivering inside my hand–
maybe this is your soul
or maybe a sparrow.

Yet, I hesitate to peek.

Afraid,
to let
it
go.

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