In the space between Ascension and Parallax unfolds Liminality; a poem, a breath, a suspension. Liminality exists as a threshold piece, a moment of stillness between movement and recognition. It inhabits the in-between: not a return, nor a rise, but the pause before transformation. Where Ascension reaches upward and Parallax casts its gaze across altered ground, Liminality turns inward. It offers no resolution, no structure, only a question: Where do you find the strength to carry on when everything is darkness and the light you once followed no longer speaks your name? This is not merely a meditation on grief, but an articulation of liminality as lived experience; the ambiguity that emerges in moments of transition, between what was and what will be. It is a space where identity shifts, where meaning is suspended, and where the self is momentarily unmoored. It acknowledges the weight of not knowing, and honors the silence before the first step forward. Liminality is a quiet invocation: to pause, to grieve, to sit with what cannot yet be named. It is here, in this uncertain space, that transformation begins. Inspired by and dedicated to Korean art collector Choi Seung-hyun.