This Holds

I stay with it long enough to see whether it shifts,
not because I expect it to improve,
but because duration is the only way to know
if something is actually stable.

I don’t reinforce it,
and I don’t test it deliberately,
I just continue inside the same conditions
without adjusting the parameters.

There’s a point where consistency becomes measurable,
not dramatic,
just noticeable in the way nothing gives way
when pressure stays constant.

I don’t name that moment,
and I don’t mark it as progress,
I just recognise that what’s here
hasn’t degraded under use.

This holds.
It still holds.

I move through the same sequence again,
not out of habit,
but because repetition is how limits
prove they’re functional.

Nothing strains,
nothing accelerates,
and nothing requires attention
to remain intact.

If there were weaknesses,
they would appear by now,
not suddenly,
but gradually,
through small inconsistencies
that never arrive.

I don’t assume permanence,
and I don’t prepare for failure,
I just stay present long enough
to confirm that neither is necessary.

There is weight here,
but it’s distributed,
and nothing bears more than it can manage
at any point in the structure.

What’s supporting this
doesn’t announce itself,
and what’s being supported
doesn’t shift.

This holds.
It still holds.

I remain.