Wednesday, September 13, 2006

point

staring at one point,
over an hour or who knows?
feet naked against kitchen floor
fixated
fixed –on
window, –the front
can’t turn around while
blending stinted-peace
with lumps of involuntariness

grows

the point is deeply white
blinding
enrapturing
agonizing lure

on, –not off

around it
little light-purple flowers
some barely-green leaves
in a blurring twirl
skip, tap, smile, hop

while they wait
while they hope

central and white
still
the point motionless
moves

if i could just move
if i could just turn away
i wouldn’t stop
again
as i did before

in an wintry –summery– point
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