the kombucha is fizzy and maybe i'm fizzy too all this shaking up all this change like sediment stirred from the bottom of a jar maybe the clarity was just stillness not truth and what if the truth is this murky swirling mess the pottery instructor said i had potential and that word feels heavy like a promise i can't keep the wheel spins and spins and i'm waiting for the explosion that doesn't come maybe it won't maybe it's just spinning