Tagged: line

line by line, curve by

the beginning of

the beginning of
the end starts off
unmarked, gathers
up her skirt with
some sense of
loss and
purpose, seeks
odd company.
and when
the end of the
end finally arrives,
someone will go
back to mark the
beginning of
the end, so faintly
that we may never
find our way back,
not even
if we had never
meant to leave

with time, the lines we

with time, the lines we
draw are as imperceptible
as the ones we do
not draw, leaning
on the way we
recognize one
another, hold each
other’s identities
and desires in imperfect
balance. i am standing
in the shower again
for a moment longer,
no, even longer,
the newest line
we have drawn, the old
lines we have crossed

we zigzagged across

we zigzagged across
an entire city to
arrive here, in this

moment, newly found or lost,
it is always a fine line

on this side of

on this side of
midnight, the heart holds
dress rehearsals for
pain, so that
by daybreak, every
word is appropriately
costumed, every feeling
suitably polished,
and we won’t at all
look towards each
other, waiting
hopelessly for
the next line

the line between standing

the line between standing
and falling curves
so naturally, there will
be minutes when you
can no longer tell
which way is
up, hours when it
feels so right,
and merely seconds
when it makes a
consequential difference

where’s the line between

where’s the line between
upholding equality
and having to
explode? the rule
is nobody receives
more than two-
thirds of the rules