This Time

July 27, 2007 § Leave a comment

It was once a grid of pencil lines on yellow paper
but is now squeezed into braid;
And the braid is squeezed into a tight, strong chord,
if just a little frayed.

The squeezing keeps on pressing
any bit of white or space.

In the end,
at some point on from here,
I’ll have a different face.

October 2006

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