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
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