Doubts of the Hinge

Doubts of the hinge

It's old, I see in it
the marks of time,
and that unsettles me.
It is wide and reminds me
that I am the small one.
The silence breathes and waits.
Even in absolute darkness,
it doesn't disturb me too much.
It is half open.
The hinge
cannot imagine whether its intention
is to let in or to let out.
Sometimes I think
that if I pushed it a little further
it wouldn't be the door that opens,
but me.