The line demarks a space
opened in the word—
As I speak, I see
the air tremble like glass.
The length of time left
demands fealty to the page,
to a resonance with a past
that is only there in mind.
An open window no longer
distorts vision, nor withholds
access to a world other than
the tight confines of this room.
A vein runs my arm’s length,
spilling blood across the floor.
(June 15, 2018)
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