tumblr_nv8dxt6a2u1sw8fg2o1_1280

 

My story distorts

the line. The quick

break bends the more

reasoned with its

slow plodding grace,

until it too

puddles like ice.

 

Then uncertain

steps, upon the

open window’s

edge, slip to air,

and the long fall

feels like freedom.

 

(April 13, 2018)

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