Lines on a page,
blue and red,
create a sensation-
a light touch,
a hand on my forearm;
scratching,
scraping,
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
my
own.
blue and red,
create a sensation-
a light touch,
a hand on my forearm;
scratching,
scraping,
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
my
own.
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