Double espresso
There's a line I crossed.
I see it now
floating away from me, translucent, warm,
inviting.
There's that line there I drew, ahead -
harsh and unrelenting,
mine.
There I am
in between
as I try to forget about lines and
space and
shapes and forms.
I close my eyes from the inside,
cut my hesitation at the root
and burn what remained unsaid.
And still the lines are there,
and still I can't bend them
and still I can't move.
One way or the other,
I'm still
a dot in between.
