when you listen to an urge to look and you pay attention where called and notice a familiar pattern curling towards you, like a creeping plant reaching for the nearest fence or wall or post, anything to cling to, take a step back. and then another. and another. now you know what has been conjured up. what does it all mean? the only mistake would be to stand still. not everything deserves your curiosity.
and if a tendril has caught your toe, don’t rip it away. carefully untwirl it. let it find an unsung way.