For every action there is an

equal and opposite

reaction to that which

hasn’t killed us and

made us stronger.

I blur between your lines,

a slurred separation

of potential

kinetic energy.

A closed circuit train

to nowhere –

and, god, I just

want you to be there

with me –

you’ll watch it all fall

downstream of the

eastern sea, north by northwest

of someone else’s

westernized village.

We close a circle,

reddened with our toppled vertices,

staring at two blue eyes,

equal and opposite,

caught between a

thin, dark line.


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