Thursday, September 29, 2011

It Comes From The Air

Lines on a page,
blue and red,
create a sensation-
a light touch,
a hand on my forearm;
pulling and
willing me on.

Fingers at the top of my spine;
eyes seeing through my own-
as a camera
through a blinking television.

"Perhaps this has happened before."
words hanging in the air for a moment...

the TV goes blank

the fingers recoil into black

and I'm truly alone-

staring at familiar lines on a page as they slowly fill
with words that are somehow