07 mar 2019, Fuckoffee

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.


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